


i had my heart set on you

by venomedveins



Series: Fire Starter [11]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Angst, Car Sex, Child Abuse, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Violence, Felching, Fisting, Flirting, Flower meanings, Fluff, Lies, Love, M/M, Mentions of Germancest (lightly), Past Abuse, Phone Sex, mentions of threesomes, tattooing, voyerism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:31:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2425460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomedveins/pseuds/venomedveins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agron and Nasir's relationship develops in different ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i had my heart set on you

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so fucking much to crazzzedope who without this fic would not even be possible. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reads as well, I really appreciate it. Your comments and love keep it going.

Agron rolls over, squinting against the early morning light with a groan. Usually, Nasir closes the curtains at night, preferring to wake up to the dim glow of a hidden sun, but he's not here. The bed is miserably cold on Nasir's side, no cup of half empty tea on the bedside table. Agron is surprised how much that bothers him. 

To add to injury, Agron has been on nights the whole week following Halloween, punished for his behavior at Mira and Spartacus' party and forced to work with Castus. Spartacus seems to find every possible opportunity put them together, everything from cleaning out the truck to getting sent into buildings together. It's uncanny. 

Sitting up, Agron rubs an eye with a tight fist as he clambers out of the bed. He should try to sleep for a few more hours, but it's about the time that Nasir is probably drinking his morning coffee, and Agron wants to call him. He likes starting out the morning knowing that Nasir is alright, that he'll have a good day, and that he misses Agron as much as Agron misses him. He'll just grab a drink in the kitchen, rinse the taste of sleep out of his mouth, before making the call. 

He stumbles towards the kitchen, passing toppled over shoes and old paper plates, pausing in the door frame at the sight before him. Auctus is standing in front of the stove; sweatpants slung low on his hips as he carefully flips an omelet. He doesn't see Agron, nor does he hear him until he turns, startling back. 

“Shit man. You scared the fuck out of me,” Auctus laughs a little, setting the spatula on the counter, “Warn a guy, yeah?”

“What are you doing here?” Agron doesn't even bother with a polite response, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. 

“Duro had me sleep over,” Auctus shifts, swaying a little on his feet and scratching his nose, “We're working things out.”

“Oh, that's great,” Agron nods, grin pulling across his face, “and did you work things out with Nasir or are you just going to let that slide? How about Pietros?” His grin sharpens, teeth seeming to glint in the light. It's no longer warm, but a snarl of barely contained rage. 

“Agron,” Auctus begins, but never gets a chance to finish. 

“You threatened my boyfriend.” Agron's blunt tone can't be argued with. “You threatened my boyfriend and his best friend. Then you go and break up with Duro over a fucking text. Do you have any idea what he was like? What you did to him?”

“I know. I made a huge mistake, but I'm here to try and fix it. Duro is letting me have that chance, and I'm not going to fuck it up again.” Auctus sighs deeply, “And I had every intention of going to the shop today and talking to Pietros and Nasir.”

“Great plan,” Agron scoffs, “While you're at it, why don't you explain to Barca why his boyfriend carries around mace now and refuses to open the shop by himself? Or explain that Pietros tried to give his fucking ring back.”

“I can't change the past, Agron. What more do you want me to do? I will go and apologize to both of them. I know they deserve that.” Auctus' tone is slowly turning from apologetic to angry though.

“What do I want you to do?” Agron leans forward, eyes narrowing, “I want you to fucking man up and realize that you breaking up with Duro did a lot more damage than you think. Just because my brother is letting you fuck him again doesn't mean everything is okay with everyone else.”

“I know that,” Auctus agrees, shaking his head, “and I'm trying to make up for it.”

“You're not trying hard enough,” Agron spits, looming in the doorway again.

“What are you saying?” Auctus looks up sharply. 

“I'm saying you're just lucky I couldn't find you for two weeks. You ever raise a hand to my family again, I will make sure you are removed from the fucking picture,” Agron growls, about to move forward into the kitchen when he catches the sound of a door shutting. 

“Hey big brother,” Duro nuzzles against Agron's shoulder before moving into the kitchen, kissing Auctus' lips firmly. 

“Morning,” Agron greets, stern glare not leaving Auctus' face. 

“Hey babe,” Auctus murmurs, squeezing Duro's waist. 

“What were you two yelling about in here? I could hear you all the way in the shower,” Duro steals a mushroom from the cutting board. 

“Nothing. I'll see you tonight. I'm going back to bed.” Agron catches Duro long enough to kiss the side of his head before retreating from the room, glaring over his shoulder the whole way. 

He knows he could have handled it better. He could have tried to be nice to Auctus. He means a lot to Duro, and Agron knows that, but he is not one to forgive and forget. The way Nasir had trembled against Agron's side when he confessed what happened in the shop and the stories from Barca about Pietros crying the whole night is enough to fuel Agron's fury. 

Flopping back down on his bed, he pulls his phone over from the nightstand, staring at the background screen. It's a snapshot of the Nasir and him, sitting next to one another on Mira's couch. There is a bowl of popcorn falling from Nasir's lap, half-forgotten in the moment. Spartacus had said something – a joke or some dumb story – and Nasir's face is scrunched in a laugh, head tipped back as Agron kisses his temple. Agron's bicep looks huge behind Nasir's head, fingers coiled in one of Nasir's. 

It makes him ache, in a way that Agron never thought he would. It's a constant, insatiable need. He thought it would fade. He thought, after the first time he met Nasir, that the want to have Nasir around at every second would diminish after the sex started getting boring. Sure, Nasir was pretty and snarky, but Agron has never been the type to put his heart out there. 

Then the feelings began. The igniting of something warm traveling around his chest every time Nasir came around, and then it grew into every time Agron thought about Nasir, but those thoughts themselves grew. Now, it wasn't just the longing for Nasir's soft skin against his own. It was a suffocating need to have Nasir next to him at all times. It started the moment Nasir went out of Agron's sight and lasted until he was back with him. 

“Hey. I was just thinking about you,” Nasir greets, voice sleep soft. 

“Hey baby,” Agron murmurs, fingers trailing over the space that Nasir would usually take up in the bed next to him. 

“Shouldn't you be sleeping?” Nasir's voice teases, and Agron grips the sheets tighter. 

“I wanted to talk to you before you went to work.” Agron rolls over, pressing his face against Nasir's pillow, still faintly clinging to the scent of cinnamon and sweat. 

Across town, Nasir plays with the hem of his t-shirt – one of Agron's. It still smells like his cologne right up against the collar and sleeves, thick musk that Nasir buries his nose in. He steals them until they stop smelling like Agron and then he switches them out. He's surprised Agron has never noticed. 

The tightening in his chest is just the beginning of the longing. Nasir wants to chalk it up to being ridiculous, but they haven't seen each other in over a week, only clung to each other's voices down a phone line. It's driving Nasir crazy, not waking up to Agron's warm chest against him, his stubble scratching Nasir's shoulders. It's not right – nothing is - when they're apart. 

“I'm there till four this afternoon,” Nasir's end of the phone fills with rustling, as if Nasir is turning over, “Daddy?”

“Yeah, baby boy?” Agron sighs.

“I miss you.” Nasir confesses, closing his eyes tightly. It'd be so stupid of him to cry over this. It's only been a week, not like he's never going to see Agron again.

“I miss you too.” Agron replies, “I know this fucking sucks. I'm right here though, okay? I'm with you, always with you.”

“I know. I know you are.” Nasir sighs, “It's just not the same.”

“I know baby. I wish I was there with you right now, pulling you back against me,” Agron feels his cock twitch, a thought occurring to him, “hands spreading your legs open.”

“Oh fuck,” Nasir gasps out, tossing his head back against his pillow. It's the tiny shift in Agron's voice, his vowels taking on a sharp growl at the end.

“You know how hard I get in the morning for you,” Agron continues, voice turning to gravel, “sliding right between your thighs. They're all slick from last night, all that come that leaked out of you.”

“Put more in me,” Nasir begs, heels digging into the mattress, one desperate hand lifting Agron's t-shirt above his cock. It never ceases to amaze him how quick Agron can turn him on, light him up. 

“You want me to fill you up? Breed you like my bitch?” Agron growls, rubbing his erection through his sweatpants. He wants to jerk off hard and fast, like he would inside Nasir, but he can't – not yet. He has to make Nasir wait for it, ask to touch himself.

“Yes! Please Daddy.” Nasir lets his hand hover above his cock, awaiting command. 

“Please what?” Agron's smirk travels down the line, yanking an answering moan from Nasir. 

“You know what I want,” Nasir mumbles, “You always know.”

“Do I?” Agron sounds so cocky like this, so completely in control.

“Yes, fuck, Daddy,” Nasir's fingers clench in the short hairs above his cock, pulling on them enough to spark pain pleasure up his spine. 

“Touch yourself, baby boy. Wrap that thick fist around your cock, alright? Stroke yourself nice and slow.” Agron instructs, following his own advice. “It's what you want, isn't it?”

The low moan that answers Agron's command is half broken by the sound of rustling sheets. Agron presses the phone closer to his ear to hear it, the wet slide of Nasir's fingers over his skin, easing his body into the rhythm. He wishes it was his own hand, touching Nasir's cock, pulling these sounds from him, but this will have to do. 

"God, you always look so fucking good like this. All spread out on the bed, legs open for me. You know I know every inch of you. Can make you fall apart with just a brush of my fingers," Agron goads, getting off on the breathy little mews coming down the line. 

"I'm yours, Daddy. I am," Nasir confesses, precome leaking all over his fingers. He's getting this feeling, creeping up along his spine, that he could relinquish total control over himself to Agron, and would be safe and taken care of. 

"Stroke faster, baby boy. Think about my mouth on you, traveling down your cock, going towards your tight little hole," Agron groans, keeping his pace on his cock slow and steady, "You want me inside you. I know you do. Want me to fill you up, breed you like my own little cockslut, huh?"

Nasir doesn't reply with words, just a hiss followed by a whine. He's verging on not being able to reply at all, and hopes that his moans for more will suffice. Blunt fingers tease along his hole, and even though Nasir knows they will feel good, they will do nothing in comparison to the way Agron moves his fingers inside him.

"I want you inside me,” Nasir gasps, eyes squeezed tight. His fingers speeding up on his cock, “I want your whole hand.”

Heat, crushing and overwhelming lust hits Agron full force, ripping a deep growl from him that even surprises himself. He knows it's Nasir's half coherent rambling, but the idea behind it, the way that Nasir's body would open up and then close around his wrist, pulling him in, it's enough to bring Agron to an altogether halt. 

“You mean that?” Breathing heavily over the line, Agron holds the phone so tight he swears he hears the plastic crack. 

“Mmhm,” Nasir licks his lips, trying to focus on talking but he can't when he's this close already. 

Wrapping his fist even tighter around his cock, Agron strokes himself until he feels raw. His moans keep encouraging Nasir on, panting into the phone on purpose, just like he would be against Nasir's neck, biting and licking at the flesh. 

“I swear baby boy, when I see you, I'm going to fuck you hard enough you can't walk for days,” Agron hisses, knowing Nasir is close, “Never leave your body. Keep myself hard against you, grinding in that ass just the way you like it. Balls deep and pinning you to the bed.”

Nasir's past words, clawing at his sheets as Agron paints the perfect picture for him. He loves being crushed under Agron's bulk, smothered in the smell of sweat and Agron's particular musk. Nasir swears that it clings to his own skin, so every once in a while he'll catch a whiff of Agron and the need to have him starts all over again. 

“You're so close, aren't you baby? Leaking all over those pretty little fingers? You want me in your mouth, huh? Mouth gaping for it while I finger you open, spread that ass wide so I can just ease into you, but no matter how much lube or how much I stretch you, you always fit me so good.” Agron hisses, “Always so tight for your Daddy.”

Giving a half choked sob, Nasir can feel his orgasm burning at the base of his spine. In his fevered mind, he swears it's like his phoenix tattoo has actually caught fire, hurting so much for holding it back but it feels so good. He won't let himself go until Agron tells him to, completely becoming submissive to Agron's instructions. 

“Puh-Please,” Nasir whimpers, hot tears leaking at the corners of his eyes it's so good.

“You wanna come for me, baby boy? You want to be a good boy for me?” Agron teases, knowing that Nasir will always say yes.

“Mmhm,” Nasir's answer is half muffled as if he's wrapped a hand over his mouth. 

“Tell me what you are,” Agron goads, wanting to hear him say it, confess. 

“I'm yours,” Nasir gasps. 

“And? You're my what?”

“I'm your cockslut,” Nasir cries half desperate, “I am your little bitch and I want it so bad. I need you, please Daddy, fill me up. Make me your bitch. I want you to fuck me and breed me so good I never think of anything but your cock.”

“Come.”

Agron's growled command pulls the sweetest little scream from Nasir, rocking his whole body until the headboard slams into the wall. Seed paints up his stomach, all the way to his chest, staining Agron's t-shirt that's wrapped around Nasir's collarbones. It keeps pulsing, even through Agron's quieter and more subdued moans, his own orgasm hitting him strong, but nothing as unraveling as Nasir's. 

Nasir doesn't even need to be told, just brings his now soiled hand up to his mouth and sticks his fingers inside. He laps his own come off, mewing at the bitter taste, wanting it to be Agron's instead of his own. Still, it feels like Nasir has been fucked raw, body melting into his mattress. 

It's a while before Agron can muster but the words, voice satisfied and gloating. He never thought he would actually get Nasir to beg like that, and just from talking to him. In person, it is going to be that much better. 

“You are so good for me, baby boy.” Agron murmurs, “So perfect. Following instructions.”

“Never want to disappoint you,” Nasir's lips feel numb, stumbling around the consonants. 

“You never do,” Agron praises, lightly stroking his fingertips over his stomach, “Always the perfect boy for me. Make your Daddy so happy.”

Nasir can feel the blush creeping up his cheeks, burning himself a bright red. 

“Would make you more happy if you come over,” Nasir whines, knowing he has to get up and get ready for work but his legs don't seem to want to move. 

“I know baby boy. Soon, I promise. I'll come over and treat that ass right,” Agron swears, glancing at the clock. It's already nine.

“Whenever I'm home, I just sit here thinking about what it would feel like to have you against me instead of your shirt,” Nasir confesses, not knowing when it became so easy to admit things like this to Agron, “It's not the same.”

“Hey baby,” Agron soothes, “I know it's frustrating. Believe me, I know. I'd much rather spend all night with you than running into burning buildings. It's just a few more days though and then I'll go back on regular shift.”

“I know,” Nasir pouts up at the ceiling. 

“I love you,” Agron murmurs, already feeling the pull of sleep, “I promise, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“I know,” Nasir repeats it, feeling his chest seize once again at the words. It burns at his throat, wanting to crawl out but it just can't. 

“Text me later, okay?” Agron's eyes close, lulled by Nasir's positive answer. 

It takes a few more minutes, but Nasir finally has the strength to climb out of bed and make his way to the bathroom. He's halfway there when he notices a very awkward looking Pietros and Barca sitting at the kitchen table, both staring very studiously into their coffee mugs. 

“Did you tell Agron hello for us?” Pietros snorts into the hot steam. 

“No,” Nasir replies snarkily, “I was a little preoccupied.”

“I can tell,” Pietros looks up, smirking wickedly, “You have jizz in your hair.”

Nasir pulls a clump of his hair off his shoulder, and sure enough, a large wad is stuck together, barely beginning to crust white. He flips Pietros off as he grimaces, quickly making his way across the kitchen to the bathroom to the chorus of Barca's loud booming laughter and Pietros' high pitched giggles. 

 

\- - - 

 

“Did he cry this time?” Gannicus asks, shifting the SUV into drive as soon as Saxa closes the door. 

“No. Though he did ask after his _Uncie Agron's cat_ ,” Saxa grins, “for some reason he thinks that Aunt Naevia and Nasir are siblings.”

“I can see that,” Gannicus shrugs, turning the corner. “It's good for Naevia to get some kid experience though, before she pops. I can't believe we had a kid before them.”

“Ours wasn't exactly planned,” Saxa brushes her hair up into a pony tail, twisting it quickly into a bun after. Wild blond curls still poke out, reminding Gannicus fondly of their son.

“You know...” Saxa smirks in a way that Gannicus just knows she has something particularly juicy. 

“What?” Gannicus goads her, enjoying his wife's glee over meddling. As long as it's not turned on him, he really doesn't mind. 

“I think Agron is going to propose,” Saxa nods knowingly, “I caught him looking up rings a few days ago.”

“Seriously?” Gannicus raises an eyebrow. He can understand it. They've been dating for nearly nine months now, and it's basically impossible to separate them for long. 

“Yep. Finally going to get the ball and chain really hitched on,” Saxa rolls her eyes at Gannicus, unimpressed. 

“You sure Nasir is gonna go for it?” Gannicus laughs, “He doesn't exactly seem like the stick around type.”

“I don't know. Mira is rooting for them,” Saxa looks out the window, “It's nice to see Agron happy though. He hasn't been this way for a really long time.”

“You would know best,” Gannicus gently takes Saxa's hand, “Is your Aunt and Uncle coming to Thanksgiving?”

“They should be,” Saxa nods, “Things aren't the greatest with them and Agron.”

“Still mad about taking Duro out of the house?” Gannicus pulls up in front of the fire house. 

“Yeah,” Saxa rubs a hand over her face, smoothing out her features, “What did they fucking expect? The first time Uncle Gervas started fucking hitting Duro instead of Agron, it was all over.”

“Is that why-” Gannicus pauses, seeing the man round the corner, unlocking the door to the station. 

“He has that scar,” Saxa nods, taking a deep breath before letting it all out, “Come on. We're going to be late.”

Gannicus hops out of the car before moving over to Saxa's side, grabbing her in a quick hug, kissing her soundly. He knows it hurts her to talk about it, especially that night. It helps explain it though, the closeness between Agron and Duro, the huge scar on Agron's chest, the way he stupidly puts himself in danger to protect the ones he loves – his careless temper. 

“Don't tell him I told you about it,” Saxa murmurs in Gannicus' ear, “He would be furious.”

“I won't.” Gannicus promises, cupping Saxa's jaw lovingly before pulling her towards the station. 

Saxa jumps on Agron's back the moment they get through the door, ruffling her cousin's still damp hair. Agron catches her easily, holding onto her legs as he walks upstairs, both of them calling out greeting to the few people they pass – gaining a handful of strange looks from the new guys that don't know and don't understand. 

“You seem in a particularly blah mood,” Saxa chirps, leaning her chin on Agron's shoulder. 

“Just tired,” Agron answers, chest expanding around a sigh. 

“Tired as in grumpy tired or as in I-fucked-Nasir-for-hours-last-night tired?” Saxa asks, lazily drawing her fingers along Agron's hair line. 

“I was here last night, and the night before,” Agron replies, dropping Saxa down on her bed when they reach the bunk area. 

“So you're mad because you've had nights all week? We all go through that,” Saxa leans back on her elbows, “Or was it something else?”

“Mom called me,” Agron scrubs at his cheeks with closed fingers, scratching at his stubble, “She wanted to confirm that Duro and I would be coming home and bringing our ‘special someones’.”

“And? Duro is back with Auctus. I'm sure Nasir will want to go,” Saxa shrugs, “He follows you like a fucking lost pup. We can just hide out with Grandma Isolde and sneak Tielo pieces of pie.”

“Yeah,” Agron leans against the bedpost, still scratching at his face, “You know, I should have fucking known that _she_ would call. There is no way that shit would pick up the fucking phone and call his sons.” 

“You haven't told Nasir, have you? About them? About that night?” Saxa asks softly, glancing around to make sure no one else is here. 

“It just,” Agron starts, then pauses, “It just never came up. It was never the right time, without making me sound like some crazy violent asshole.”

“Agron, you fucking saved Duro's life.” Saxa sits up, gently taking Agron's large hand between her own, “You took a fucking knife to the chest for your brother. That's not something to belittle.”

Agron sighs, tilting his head to look up at the ceiling. He knows Saxa is right. There is just so much that Nasir and him haven't discussed. He barely knows anything about Nasir's background, only that sometimes Nasir freezes up when Agron touches a tiny scar on the back of his neck, up against his hairline. He knows it came from the tongue of a belt by a drunk foster dad, but nothing else. 

How can he possibly tell Nasir all about his violent and mostly bloody past when Nasir is still suffering the trauma of an abusive relationship? He's going to connect the two, get some crazy idea in his head that Agron is going to end up hurting him. Agron can't even imagine it, raising his hands against Nasir. 

“I'm proud of you,” Saxa stands, “I'm proud of my cousin, the crazy, violent, angry little boy who grew into the man before me. You save lives, Agron. You throw yourself into every fucking building we come across to save people. You saved Nasir from Caesar, from a life of abuse and pain, and you keep him safe. Don't think you are anything less than a hero.”

Standing, Saxa wraps her arms tightly around Agron's waist, squeezing with all her might. She's pretty strong for her small frame, lined in muscles under her uniform. Agron grunts at the force, hugging her back with one hand gently cupping the back of her head. It feels good, to be close to family, to know someone loves and trusts him. 

“Thank you,” Agron murmurs into the curls at Saxa's temples. 

Saxa squeezes back harder, and Agron swears his back groans in protest. 

“Speaking of,” she pulls back, grinning again, “You need to bring Nasir around. Tielo is asking about him non-stop. Wants his Uncie Agron to bring over his cat.”

“He said that?” Agron laughs, wiping at his eyes. Saxa doesn't comment on the fact that she's known Agron her whole life and knows when he's crying. 

“Yep. Hissed at me too.” Saxa pats Agron's back just as the sirens start up. 

“They're singing our song,” Agron's face suddenly morphs – maniac delight at the prospect of a job. 

“Let's not keep the beast waiting.”

Saxa spins towards the door, knowing Agron is right on his heels. 

 

\- - - 

 

Nasir drags the needle down the man's leg, keeping one hand on his knee to steady him. He's been a trooper, almost five hours in the chair and hasn't asked for anything except to be let up to use the restroom. Nasir loves customers like this, who sit down and shut up and let him work without throwing a fit when it hurts. The man is getting a jellyfish, tentacles curled from his mid-calf to his ankle in a plethora of blues, greens, and aquamarines. Nasir took extra care when mixing the colors, wanting them to stay vibrant on the man's slightly tan skin. 

“You seem a bit young to be owning your own tattoo shop," the man comments above him, looking up from his magazine. 

“Pietros, the guy out front with the curly hair, and I co-own it." Nasir glances up, returning to his work under the scrutiny of his client. 

“How old are you?" the man, Nasir wishes he could remember his name, coughs a little, jostling Nasir's hand. 

“I turn twenty in February," Nasir waits until the man settles before reapplying the needle to the man's skin. 

“You're nineteen," the man scoffs, rolling his eyes, “And you have this much talent? You should be off selling your artwork on Chelsea gallery walls, having drug induced orgies with beautiful little artist groupies. Not inking up guys like me.”

Nasir can feel the blush creep up his neck, on display due to his hair being pulled up. He's not used to attention like this, but he can't help but feel a deep, secret pleasure in it. He likes to be complimented, to made to feel important. 

“Thank you," Nasir laughs it off, shaking his head. 

“Seriously, you're pretty good looking. I'm sure you hear that all the time," the guy continues, not even bothering to wince in pain as Nasir drags the needle through his skin again, raising blood around the emerald green ink. 

“I hear it, sometimes," Nasir looks up at the man through his eyelashes. 

“Probably have a cute little girlfriend, huh?" The man shakes his head, “Way out of my league.”

“Actually," Nasir starts, only to be cut off as Pietros sticks his head in the door. 

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, but there is a box out front for you and a huge bouquet of flowers. Either Agron is really missing you or you did something really right this morning.”

“What?" Nasir's brow furrows, confused. 

“Your boyfriend sent you presents," Pietros speaks slowly, rolls his eyes, “You know, Agron - tall, packed with muscles, deep growly voice? Has a tendency to walk around naked in our apartment? You remember your boyfriend, right?”

“Yes, thank you. I remember my boyfriend," Nasir snarks back, feeling his whole face turn crimson now, “I'll get to it when I'm finished.”

“No need to get snippy," Pietros turns, “Be thankful Agron even thinks of sending you stuff.”

Nasir rolls his eyes, feeling the man's eyes track his face as he continues to shade along one curve of the jellyfish. He can feel the comment coming even before he opens his mouth. 

“Boyfriend, eh?”

“He's a firefighter," Nasir blurts out, trying to think of anything else to say to tamper down the man's sudden interest, “Brother is a cop. They're both huge, just, giants.”

“Both are huge?" The man raises an eyebrow, insinuating that Nasir knows both of them _that way_.

“I didn't-" Nasir gapes. 

“Mean it like that? I'm not blaming you," the guy smirks, leaning forward a little, “I mean, I like to dabble a little in brothers, if you know what I mean.”

Nasir falls into awkward silence at the guy's uproarious laughter, making quick work of his lines and shading " managing to finish the tattoo in record time. He snaps a few pictures, sends one to Agron just because, and then wraps it up and sends the man out to pay at the desk. 

Beginning to clean up, Nasir sighs deeply. He wonders, in a weird sort of twisted way that he may never voice to anyone, if Agron and Duro are like that. They seem so fucking close, really touchy feely types, not that Nasir finds anything wrong with it. It's just - hot in a way that Nasir didn't expect. 

“He left you his number," Pietros calls out as Nasir rounds the corner, coming to lean on the front desk.

“Yeah?" Nasir picks up the scrap of paper, reading the scrawling handwriting. 

__  
Thanks for the piece!  
If you ever feel like sharing or  
getting shared, call me  
803-554-3212  


Nasir shudders at it, holding it up for Pietros to read. 

“Did he just insinuate that he wants to have a threesome with you?" Cocking his head to the side, Pietros snickers into his fist. 

“I guess." Nasir shrugs, tossing the paper in the trash, “But I really don't think Agron would go for it. Not really the sweaty, patchouli hipster type." 

“Oh no," Pietros snatches it up, “I need to Instagram this, pronto.”

“Pietros! No!" Nasir shakes his head, trying to reach for the paper, but Pietros holds it up high, having a few inches on Nasir and arching out of reach. 

“Barca is gonna get a kick out of this." Cackling, Pietros turns away, taking a picture before swiping through filters. 

“If Barca sees it, then so is Gannicus who will definitely show it to Saxa who will show it to Agron," Nasir pouts, “And then we'll have that fight again about my stupid t-shirts.”

“What?" Chadara suddenly pops her head around the curtain, eyebrow raised, “What fight?

“It wasn't really a fight," Nasir mumbles, sinking down into the desk chair, “It was more of a heated discussion.”

“About?" Chadara goads, hopping up on the counter. 

“About my work attire," Nasir turns to look at the bouquet on the desk, fingers gently running over the petals of the nearest carnation. 

“And?" Chadara is not going to drop this. 

“He's just concerned that I show too much skin at work, being bent over and all, considering that the first time we hooked up was in my station," Nasir confesses, ignoring Chadara's catcall, “And thinks that I'm just going to get hit on constantly by every customer that comes in the door.”

“You do get hit on a lot," Pietros adds in, not looking up from his phone, “And you do wear those ridiculously low cut shirts.”

“I do not! They're soft and comfy and if I'm going to be sitting on a stool all day hunched over like a coal miner, then I want to be comfortable!" Nasir defends, “Besides, Agron can't wear those fucking tank tops anymore. Have you seen the way he bulges out of them? It's more obscene than me wearing something slightly low cut." 

“Your nipple is out." Chadara points a long pale finger at Nasir's chest, “And Agron does looks stupidly hot in those. All thick cut and masculine.”

“Yeah," Pietros agrees, staring up dreamily with Chadara. 

Nasir quickly re-adjusts his shirt to cover himself, straightening his necklace while he's at it. It's a leather cord curled with tiny beads and charms - something Agron and him found last week at a flea market (Nasir had to blow Agron in the truck to get him to get out and walk around for four hours, but Nasir really didn't mind.)

“So I had a rant induced nip slip, it happens," Nasir blushes, reaching up to take the card from the stand in the middle of the flowers, “And stop fantasizing about my boyfriend.”

“You already told us his cock was huge," Pietros shrugs, “What more do I need?”

“To be satisfied with your own firefighter and the knowledge that there is no way your tiny ass could handle his cock," Nasir teases, slipping his finger under the envelope tab to open it. 

“You do have a bubble butt," Pietros wrinkles his nose at Nasir, sticking out his tongue. Nasir answers accordingly. 

“You know, I really should educate your boytoy on flower meanings," Chadara smirks, picking at her nails. 

“Why?" Nasir pauses to look up at her before staring back at the mixture of yellow carnations and little white flowers. 

“Well, yellow carnations symbolize bad feelings, disappointment, and resentment. While those," Chadara points to the white flowers, “are lily of the valley. They mean return of happiness, but they're one of the most poisonous plants in North America.”

“I highly doubt that Agron knows any of that," Pietros rolls his eyes, lightly smacking Chadara on the shoulder with a quick shake of his head.

Nasir stares down at the card, turning it over slowly, eyes narrowing. It's not in a handwriting he recognizes, which means that the florist must have written the car. An online order, maybe? But if so, why would Agron go through all the trouble to send him flowers when they had plans to see each other in a few nights? Plus, he seemed perfectly content to call and text him as much as he could, the extra mile wasn't needed. 

“What does the card say?" Chadara asks, leaning forward, “Oh Nasir, love of my life, I can't stand another moment without you?”

“No," Nasir furrows his brow, holding up the card for both of them to see, “It just says I'm sorry it came to this.”

“That's a little foreboding," Pietros plucks the card from Nasir's hand, “Maybe we really do need to work on Agron's romance skills.”

“I don't-" Chadara starts, and then freezes, staring up at Nasir. 

“It's not-" Nasir can feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, cold fear curling in his gut, “I haven't-Agron hasn't-There is no need.”

“Nasir," Pietros quickly wraps an arm around Nasir's shoulders, pulling him close, “It's just a badly written card. So Agron's romancing skills are a bit rusty, it doesn't mean that anyone else sent you flowers.”

“It's him," Nasir chokes, “I know it's him. Agron has never sent me flowers. Why would he send me flowers? I'm not a fucking girl. Caesar sent me flowers, wanted me to be his little wife. I know it's him.”

“Hey, I like getting flowers," Pietros pouts, but then returns to the matter at hand, “Maybe he's taking advice from Duro or Barca.”

“Like Duro ever fucking bought flowers for Auctus," Chadara mutters, turning the card over and over in her hand. 

“He's planning something, I know it." Nasir whimpers, covering his face with his hands. 

“Nasir," Pietros firmly grabs Nasir by the sides of the neck, forcing the shorter man to meet his eye, “We haven't seen Caesar in months. You're basically married to Agron now. Nothing is going to happen to you. You have me and Chadara and Duro and Auctus and Spartacus and Mira and everyone else here for you. We aren't going to let him get near you.”

“Pietros, he's one of the top lawyers in New York City. He'll find a way," Nasir's cheeks grow wet with tears. He had seen him. He had seen Caesar just a week ago, creeping outside of Agron's firehouse in his shiny Lexus. “He always finds a way.”

“Fuck this," Chadara swiftly picks up the floors and walks outside with them, tossing the whole vase into the city's trashcan. 

“There." Chadara claps her hands together as if getting rid of invisible dust. “Problem solved. It was a wrong address or something. Ignore it, Nasir. Ignore it.”

“You're safe now," Pietros soothes, petting Nasir's hair, “No one is going to hurt you or take you away.”

Nasir wants to believe it, wants to think he's safe and those that he loves are safe, but there is no safety when it comes to Caesar. He's too strong, too clever, too willing to do whatever it takes to get back what is his - and no matter how much Nasir loves Agron (and he does, he fucking knows he does) in Caesar's mind - he will always belong to him. 

 

\- - - 

 

Thoughts of Caesar and his plot seem to leave Nasir's mind the moment he steps out of subway in front of the fire house. He had realized quickly after receiving the flowers that somehow, and by some miracle it seems, Nasir had managed to free his whole schedule for the weekend – just in time for Agron's three days off. He's pretty sure Pietros and Chadara plotted this together, but Nasir isn't going to complain.

If things go Nasir's way, they will be three days spent completely naked floating in an orgasmic haze – not necessarily in Agron's bed. Nasir is up for the floor, the kitchen counter, the couch, anything really that they can lean against. 

Rubbing his hands together against the cold, Nasir peers up at the four story building. It's narrow, with a giant FDNY seal painted on the garage door and one side door that the men use to get inside. There are a few cars parked around that Nasir recognizes – Agron's huge truck, Spartacus' minimally smaller truck, Gannicus' shiny SUV, and Lugo's Hummer. There is a sizable motorcycle leaning brilliant green in the winter sun with a decorative etching of waves on the side that Nasir doesn't recognize. 

Pulling Agron's beanie further down on his head, Nasir curses the fact that he forgot to put his hoodie on under the jacket. The freezing New York air cuts through the flimsy polyester lining of his peacoat, raising goosebumps and making Nasir shiver. Usually, after working under the hot spot lights and so close to another human, Nasir is stripped down to a flimsy tank top by the end of work. He hadn't thought to grab his left behind hoodie, just tossing his coat on and heading out the door. 

Glancing down at his phone again, Nasir startles when the firehouse door opens, only to reveal Castus instead. He starts towards the small attached parking lot before spotting Nasir and heading over. Nasir wants to curse his luck as a wide grin plays along Castus' attractive face. 

“You are a sight for sore eyes,” Castus greets, going in for a hug but when Nasir backs up a little, awkwardly pats his shoulder. 

“And are you sore from setting your eyes on me?” Nasir finds it easy to flirt back, wishing in some way that he didn't. 

“Fracture is healing just fine,” Castus waves a hand towards his nose which is still bruised along one side. 

“He broke your nose?” Nasir exclaims, leaning forward to examine Castus' face closer. 

“Just a hairline,” Castus shrugs, “A bit excessive, but I think alcohol helped.”

“I'm sorry,” Nasir cringes, and he means it, “Things got a little out of hand on Halloween.”

Castus smirks, eyes bright in the setting sun. “I saw. You shouldn't let Agron boss you around like that, someone might get the wrong impression.”

“Impression?” Nasir raises an eyebrow, self consciously crossing his arms over his chest.

“That you're Agron's pet, not his boyfriend.” Castus says it boldly – a bluntness that Nasir can respect but might not necessarily want to hear. 

“I'm not-” Nasir flounders, thinking about the way he easily molds to Agron's side, “It's not something you would understand.”

“What I do understand,” Castus reaches out, gently twisting a lock of Nasir's hair around his finger, “is that a man like you should be cherished, worshiped even.”

“You want to worship me?” Nasir can feel the scarlet blush creeping up his neck, staining his cheeks. 

“With a mouth like yours, who wouldn't?” Castus' lascivious grin makes Nasir's skin tingle, and not in an unfamiliar way. It's pleasurable, to have someone find him attractive, to want him, even when he knows Nasir is off limits. 

“You-” Nasir begins to retort but is cut off as a cool hand touches his own. 

“Nasir! It's so good to see you,” Naevia, six month pregnant stomach curving out under his coat, greets the man with a swift kiss on his cheek. 

“Naevia. You look stunning,” Nasir easily turns his attention to Naevia. 

“Thank you.” Always gracious, Naevia turns her hawk like eyes towards Castus, “Hello to you too, Castus. Already off work?”

“I came in a bit early today so Sparty let me head out,” Castus answers, nodding accordingly towards her, eyes never leaving Nasir. 

“Looks like Spartacus just let everyone else out too,” Naevia motions towards the door where Gannicus and Lugo have just shoved out of, followed quickly by Donar who is shouting over his shoulder at Agron. 

“Fuck,” Nasir sighs, staring out at his boyfriend. His hair is wet, sticking up all over the place, body hidden by a sweatshirt and jeans. He looks good, cheeks instantly going pink in the November air. 

It's like all is forgotten the second Agron meets Nasir's gaze though as Nasir lets out a squeal (He'll claim it was very manly later and not high pitched and needy) and runs across the sidewalk. He doesn't even slow down, trusting Agron as he jumps, arms circling around his boyfriend's neck. Agron catches him easily, wrapping Nasir's legs around his waist with a loud bellow of laughter.

“Hey baby,” Agron's grin is all dimples. 

“Shut up and kiss me,” Nasir says, crushing his lips against Agron's. 

It's not lined up correctly, noses slamming into one another and teeth knocking, but after a week of no contact and only dirty texts – Nasir is more than willing to take anything he gets. 

With a half muffled laugh, Agron corrects the kiss slowly, large hand gripping Nasir's ass while the other tangles in his hair, tilting his head to the side. He takes over the kiss when he has Nasir where he wants him, tongue invading Nasir's mouth and teeth teasingly sliding along Nasir's full lips. 

Pulling back, Agron rubs his nose along Nasir's in a soft nuzzle, pecking his cheeks, hands flexing on his ass. It's cute, the way Nasir's nose wrinkles from the attention, fingers straying to Agron's short hair, stroking it before tracing along his stubble. It's as if he's trying to re-memorize his face. 

Agron squeezes his arms tightly around Nasir in a hug, pulling a peal of high pitched and happy laughter from Nasir as he presses his face to Nasir's neck, biting up the skin and tickling him. 

They continue to kiss for a few minutes, ignoring Lugo's horrendous cat calls and Gannicus' charming laughter, offering to let Agron's tail gate down for them, only pulling away when Spartacus clears his throat loudly. 

“Take it home, yeah?” His even smile doesn't seem angry, but Nasir gets the impression it's a required suggestion. 

“If my chief commands it,” Agron smirks, hoisting Nasir higher around his waist and turning. He starts to make his way to the truck when Nasir squirms in his arms, detaching his mouth once again. 

“Wait, I need to say bye to-” Nasir stops, watching as Castus swings his leg over the motorcycle. It pulls his jeans tight across his toned legs, leather jacket a smooth slide along his shoulders. The parking lot is deserted except for the three of them, Spartacus having gone back inside and Naevia's car just disappearing around the corner. 

“Fucking shit,” Agron growls, low enough that only Nasir can hear, “He's going to regret having that when it snows.”

“Hush,” Nasir chastises, teasingly biting Agron's jaw, “If he wants to freeze, let him freeze. Plus, you'd look much better on that thing, thighs all spread around it.”

“You think so?” Agron turns his head to look at Nasir, smirking. 

“Well,” Nasir hesitates, glancing back at Castus as he fiddles with the zip on his jacket.

Agron huffs in annoyance but turns both of them away, distracting Nasir successfully by sucking on his throat. Nasir smothers his moans by biting his bottom lip, blindly reaching behind him to grip the handle of the passenger door. 

It takes them a few minutes, shuffling and trying to blindly feel their way into the truck when Agron's tongue is far enough in Nasir's mouth he's almost tracing his tonsils. Finally though, Agron manages to lift Nasir up and onto the passenger seat, letting the man sprawl back – barely catching himself on his elbows. 

“You are the hottest thing I've seen all day,” Agron grins, unfastening the large plastic buttons on Nasir's peacoat. 

Nasir is just about to reply something snarky about how that's ironic considering that Agron fights fires for a living, but is successfully cut off as Agron yanks up his tanktop and pressed a wet, desperate kiss at the top of Nasir's pants. 

“Agron,” Nasir gasps, staring down disbelieving as Agron grips the two sides of the material, successfully undoing all five buttons on Nasir's jeans, trailing kisses from his navel ring along the newly exposed skin. Goosebumps spread along the now exposed skin, half from the freezing air and half from delight at Agron's touch. 

“You can't.” Nasir shakes his head. They are in a firehouse parking lot on a very busy Brooklyn street, a security camera high up on the building - they're going to get caught. 

“I can and I will,” Agron's reply is muffled as he pulls Nasir's jeans down just far enough they rest below his ass. 

“Daddy,” Nasir whines, legs coming up to grip Agron's ribs. 

“You have no idea how much I've been wanting to do this,” Agron confesses, fingers wrapping securely around the base of Nasir's cock. 

“I do,” Nasir argues back, “I really do.”

Agron doesn't reply after, just scoots forward to lap at the tip of Nasir's cock, tip stabbing at the slit. He doesn't waste time in engulfing the flesh, bobbing his head as his cheeks hollow, having not the patience to tease today. 

The burst of salt and sugar skin is perfect. Agron swears he's never tasted anyone who is as sweet as Nasir is, come always tasting distinctly of pineapple and musk. It's intoxicating the way he dries Agron's mouth out but makes it water at the same time. 

Nasir feels instantly that he's right there, orgasm already threatening the second that Agron's tongue traces zigzag up the throbbing vein of his cock. Head tipping back over the center console, beanie sliding off his hair, Nasir completely forgets about muffling his cries. It's been too fucking long spent listening to Agron's labored growls down the phone line and feeling them against Nasir's skin. 

It's a strange sensation, feeling this hot and sweat clinging to his chest but the rest of him wracking in shivers. Half is from pleasure and half is the freezing air whipping through the truck, clinging to his damp skin and ruffling his hair. Agron is like a furnace between his thighs though, heating him all the way to the core. 

Pulling back, Agron rubs his fist up Nasir's now spit soaked cock, collecting the moisture of precome and saliva on his fingers. He looks up with a devilish grin as he pushes his fingers further between Nasir's legs, lightly touching his hole. He's tighter than Agron would have expected, needing something a little more than just slightly damp fingers. 

Keeping his tongue drawing quick circles around the head of Nasir's cock, Agron yanks Nasir's jeans down to his ankles and lifts his thighs, balancing the heels of Nasir's boots on the front seat. He keeps blowing him, mouth tightening but letting saliva drip from his chin, messily sliding down Nasir's balls to his ass. 

There is no way that Nasir was going to make it through this. It's too much all at once, too good, too fucking Agron with the light dragging of teeth and the twisting of his fingers in the short hairs at the base of Nasir's cock. 

When Nasir comes, he arches his back so hard that he feels it crack, body shuddering in pain/pleasure and crying out in the quiet street. Tiny black stars dance before his vision, blurring the image of the roof of the truck the more his cock pulses, forgetting for just a moment that they are doing this half in and half out of Agron's truck. It aches, from the base of his spine all the way to the top of his head, body shuddering in much needed bliss. 

Agron catches it all in his mouth, tasting it as it coats the roof and his tongue. He swallows some, reveling in the way that Nasir writhes against his leather seats, scent held tight in the fabric. When he's sure that Nasir is fully done, he easily grips his hips and flips him over, being careful that Nasir's toes barely reach the step up bar; stretched out across the passenger seat.

With a thick glob, Agron spits the seed back onto Nasir's ass, fingers instantly guiding it inside. It's not the greatest, but Agron surprisingly doesn't have lube in the truck, (they had already went through three bottles and forgot to replace it) so it's come is going to have to do. It works surprisingly well though as Agron twists a finger inside of Nasir, tongue coming down to join in. 

Nasir's body shakes, too over-sensitive for this but he couldn't dream of pushing Agron away. He's nearly 100% sure he just saw Castus still sitting there too, watching them, when Agron flipped him over but he can't care. He knows he should but. Fuck if it's not completely too much and not enough at the same time as Agron pushes in another finger, tongue working at the inner walls of Nasir's opening. 

“Been missing you so bad, baby boy,” Agron growls into Nasir's ear, smacking his ass before reaching down to start undoing his own pants. Spit and come dribble down the back of Nasir's thighs, staining the brown skin a milky white, making him tremble, and Agron can't help but bend down to chase the taste. 

“Show me how much, Daddy,” Nasir begs, pressing down his toes to arch his ass back, spreading himself wider. 

“This is only a taste of what i have planned for you,” Agron smirks, resting his head on the center of Nasir's back as he slips his third finger in. “You remember what you said to me on the phone? About wanting my whole hand?”

“Fuck!” Nasir moans, desperate fingers smudging the chrome of the console, gripping onto a cup holder. 

“You still want that?” Agron asks, pulling his fingers out to rub what's left of the moisture along his throbbing cock. Nasir high pitched moan is the only answer he receives. 

“You gotta answer me if you want it,” Agron goads, slipping the first inch of his cock into Nasir's body, already having to bite back a groan. 

“I do,” Nasir gasps, head tilted back to expose his neck, staring up out of the driver's side window, trying and failing to focus. 

Agron slides home, cock nestling right up against Nasir's prostate on the first try, and Nasir can feel his body shudder, another orgasm ringed out of him. It's dry and his body convulses, only held in place by Agron's sure hands and hips. 

“Oh baby boy. Fuck, that ass is perfect,” Agron moans into Nasir's ear, feeling his walls tighten under the pleasure. 

Nasir doesn't let the bone melting completion get to him yet though. His man needs to fill him first and then Nasir is allowed to collapse. Pressing the heels of his hands against the console, Nasir pushes back on Agron's cock, greedily begging for it around wailed moans. 

Agron isn't one to disappoint. Using the door frame as support, Agron grounds his feet before thrusting in hard enough the whole truck shakes. He uses it to his advantage, letting the shocks pull Nasir back against him as he thrusts over and over again, raising up on his toes to press even deeper. 

Sliding across the leather seat, Nasir gives up on trying to keep his feet on the step-up bar. He's suspended half in and out of the vehicle, balance only kept due to Agron's weight keeping him there. His body aches to be laying down flat, but at the same time, protests ever being separated from the god behind him. 

“You have no idea,” Agron grunts, nails biting at Nasir's shoulder as he yanks him back, “how fucking good you fit my cock. Just like you were made for me. My perfect little bitch.”

“I am,” Nasir cries out, sweat damp hands gripping around the steering wheel only to slip off and drop him back to the now scalding leather seat, “I am your bitch. Perfect cockslut for you.”

Agron rewards the confession with another round of quick, jabbing thrusts, rubbing along Nasir's prostate until the smaller man gives a near scream, his now soft cock twitching again as another orgasm spears through him. 

It's enough, even though he's just getting started, Agron presses his hands to separate Nasir's soft cheeks, pushing in deeper than he swears he's ever been before. Throb after throb of come shoots from his cock, painting Nasir's walls, dripping down his legs and onto the chrome finish of the Chevy. 

Shuddering, Agron stays where he is, distinctly hearing the sound of a motorcycle starts up behind him, but paying it no mind. He kisses down Nasir's sweat soaked back, feeling the tank top's damp fabric and sucking at it a little. Nasir's necklace, the one Agron gave him, is all sorts of skewed, charms tangled in his long hair. Still, Agron can't help letting out a satisfied and gloating chuckle. 

“God damn, baby.”

He kisses behind Nasir's ear, lightly sucking at the lobe. 

Nasir doesn't answer except to groan, weakly lifting a hand to wave it at Agron. He takes it as a sign, pulling out excruciatingly slow, holding Nasir down so he doesn't chase the feeling. Nasir's hole looks raw, red skin throbbing in the dying sun. Agron is careful when he pops the glove box and cleans Nasir up the best he can with fast food napkins, paying special attention to dabbing at his hole but not pressing, letting some of his seed stay in. 

Pulling him up, Agron redresses Nasir, showering him with quiet praises and kisses, combing his damp hair from his throat to suck on the skin there. Nasir pets Agron's cheek with a tired hand, half lidded eyes staring down at his boyfriend from where he perches in the truck. 

“I meant it,” Nasir murmurs, leaning his head against the door frame. 

“Meant what baby?” Agron asks, gently turning Nasir and buckling him in. He's always helpless after having a triple orgasm like that. 

“I want you to fist me,” Nasir confesses, blushing a pretty pink. He's never done anything like that before, never thought about it, but he feels like with Agron he'll be safe, cared for. Agron could not and would not ever hurt him.

“Are you sure?” Agron's heart throbs in his chest, eyes widening under the idea. Nasir would tease him about his crazy eyes if he had the strength. “I have pretty big hands.” 

“I trust you,” Nasir smiles, fingertips tracing the cupid's bow of Agron's lips, “I know you'll do it right and won't hurt me.”

“I promise I won't,” Agron nods, pecking Nasir's palm as if it were a swear, “I'll make it so good for you.” 

“I know.”

Nasir tiredly pulls the seatbelt across himself, clicking it into place. 

“But I'm going to need food first and possibly a milkshake.” 

Nasir rolls his eyes under Agron's lewd gesture to his cock, shaking his head. 

“Not that type of milkshake.”

They're on the road for ten minutes before Agron finally spots a diner. Nasir is too tired to get out, so Agron runs it and gets it to go. He comes out a few minutes later with a large glass filled to the top with strawberry ice cream, garnished with a mound of whipped cream and a cherry. 

“They didn't have any to-go cups so I just bought the whole glass,” Agron shrugs, accepting Nasir's thankful kiss to his cheek as payment. 

It's the little things that never cease to amaze Nasir. Like the day he had to climb up on the counter to reach the mugs, and the next time he came over, Agron had magically rearranged his kitchen just so he didn't have to struggle to make tea. Or the way Agron rubs at Nasir's shoulders when they're curled on the couch, somehow magically knowing when Nasir has had a long day spent hunched over someone's skin. It's thoughtless kindness – Agron not even realizing what he's doing and yet it fills Nasir with such warmth that he can barely contain it sometimes. 

The car ride back to the apartment is quiet, subdued even if Nasir is noisily sucking on his drink and casting tired glances at Agron and pulling fries from the bag. His body is already sore, and they haven't even really begun yet. They both know what's coming and it's been way too fucking long, but there is a heated tension there – apprehension that usually isn't this strong. 

When Agron finally parks the car, they just sit there in silence for a few minutes, staring at each other across the truck. The cold November rain streaks across the windows, warmth of the cab causing the windows to fog. It's almost cliché when Agron leans over to press a hand to the glass next to Nasir's head, lapping the last drop of his milkshake off his bottom lip.

“You could have just asked for a swallow,” Nasir murmurs, half-dazed by the way Agron's eyes seem to glow in the dimming light. 

“I like tasting you,” Agron smirks, eyes searching Nasir's face. His hair is curled under the beanie, sweat slick along his jaw, even in the cooling air, eyes half lidded and mouth bruised.

With a slow smile, Nasir moves his fingers across the console to lace with Agron's, marveling at the size difference. Agron's palms are nearly twice the size of Nasir's, fingers long and thick around the knuckles. They're capable and strong, just like Agron, and Nasir has never been so turned on by them before. 

“Let's go inside,” Agron murmurs, leaning across the cold plastic to press his mouth softly to Nasir's again. 

It's a gentle kiss, firm skin against skin, but without the normal biting teeth and evading tongue. Nasir sighs into it, relaxing as his eyes close, eyelashes brushing Agron's. It's sweet, chaste even, and the warmth that spreads through Nasir's chest is all for Agron. 

The whole ride up to apartment, they can't seem to separate. Wrapping his arms around Agron's waist, pressing his head against his shoulder, Nasir sighs deeply. Agron threads his fingers through Nasir's hair, combing it back from his still sweaty forehead, kissing the temple. 

“I'm going to take a shower,” Nasir announces the minute they get through the door, scratching at the back of his head. 

“Mmkay,” Agron nods, watching closely at the way Nasir's fingers unwind his scarf, dropping it on it's usually place on the back of the couch, “I just washed towels so there are some in the cabinet.”

“Alright. Thank you.” He presses a kiss to Agron's jaw.

Nasir strips as he walks, tossing his clothes half-heartedly towards Agron's bed, mentally vowing that he'll pick them up later. He's down to his skin by the time he reaches the bathroom, groaning when he bends over to turn the water on. He can feel the moisture clinging to his thighs, sticking his skin together, filled with Agron's leaking seed and spit. It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't half dry and flaking. 

Agron follows Nasir at a slower pace, picking up the jeans Nasir tossed on the floor and throwing them in the hamper. Half of Nasir's closet is here anyways, showing up in one shirt and leaving in one of Agron's. He's pretty sure he's missing half his own wardrobe at Nasir's.

Pausing in the bathroom door, Agron leans against the wood and watches – staring through the clear shower curtain at Nasir. Water droplets obscure him a little, but the outline of Nasir's firm and compact body is clear enough. He's got his hands between his legs, head tilted back in the water and brushing the strands of his wet, curling hair along his tailbone. It occurs to Agron, in a wave of heat that instantly chubs his cock up half mast, that Nasir is fingering himself, cleaning up the previous mess to get ready for the one that's coming. 

Agron half wonders if Nasir is going to shave himself, get himself ready for his man. He doesn't know why it turns him on so much, seeing Nasir's boyishly smooth thighs and ass, prepped and ready for Agron to slide his tongue across. It just does, knowing that Nasir prepares himself, offers up his body to Agron like a treat. 

“Hey baby?” Agron chokes out, massaging at his cock through his jeans. It's just to relieve a little pressure, in no rush to get off.

“Yeah?” Nasir tilts his head out of the water, fingers leaving himself. 

“I'm going to run to the store really fast, grab a few things, do you want anything?” Agron can feel himself leaking and knows that if he doesn't go out now, he's going to end up joining Nasir in the shower. 

“Did you ever get milk?” Nasir asks, raising his hands up to take the detachable shower head down, tilting it along his back. 

“No. Duro was supposed to pick it up after work but he forgot. You want coffee?” Agron has to grip the base of his cock suddenly as Nasir tilts the water closer to his ass. 

“Yes please,” Nasir replies sweetly, choking on a moan in the next instant, “and maybe some smokes?”

“Whatever you want. I'll be back in a bit.” Agron stumbles from the room, taking a deep breath. Giddy excitement builds in his chest. 

He sprints down the three blocks to the CVS, blindly grabbing a gallon of milk before making his way to the personal items. Agron doesn't even count, just puts his hand at the back of the sale's hook and drops packages of Astroglide into his basket. He makes a special stop to grabbing the warming gel though, knowing how much Nasir loves it when he uses it right after they fuck, keeping the come warm inside of his body.

The clerk stares wide eyed at him when he goes to pay. A young guy with thick glasses, he instantly puts it together, the lube, the snacks, and Gatorade. 

“Planning a fun night?” the kid asks, unable to suppress his smirk. 

“Hopefully,” Agron beams, then curses, “Hold that thought.”

He moves back through the store, only to return to the front a moment later, tossing a large bottle of Advil on the counter. 

The kid scans it, dropping it in the bag and turning a curious look at him. Agron can't help it, swiping his card quickly, he raises his hand and curls his fingers, raising an eyebrow at the cashier above his fist. 

“Oh,” the kid chokes, “Uh. Lucky girl.”

“Boy. Definitely boy,” Agron picks up the bag, making his way to the exit.

“Have fun!” the cashier calls, laughter filling the store as Agron leaves. 

When Agron gets back, he deposits everything on the kitchen counter and makes his way to the bedroom, planning on asking Nasir if he needs any help. He's instantly struck dumb though at the sight before him, leaning heavily on the door frame. 

Nasir is kneeling at the foot of the bed, back to him with his feet tucked in right below his ass, illuminated by the side table's lamp. He's pulled on a pair of those ridiculously soft, black harem pants, the ones that cling to his ass and hang low enough to teasingly sit below Nasir's tailbone, showing the full phoenix tattoo. It's dark black and red wings stretch clear across Nasir's hips, tips of them licking at his sides. Agron's hands have spanned it so many times, traced the bird's head with his tongue. 

He's pulled his hair to the side, brushing through it, leaving his half sleeve open to the air too. Agron has such a kink for Nasir's tattoos, fingers memorizing the paths of swirls and sharp lines along his bicep, ending right above his elbow. Even the triangle over his heart, Agron has bit into, marked with his tongue. 

Nasir doesn't notice him, still stroking the bristles through his long hair. It's a magnet, drawing Agron silently across the hardwood floor to him. With slow hands, Agron trails his knuckles up Nasir's spine, mouth lowering to press a lingering, wet kiss to the junction between his neck and shoulder. 

“I didn't hear you come in,” Nasir moans, instantly tilting his head to the side – a Pavlovian reaction. 

“I just got back,” Agron answers, hands opening to caress Nasir's smooth skin. 

He's so soft, caramel colored skin glowing in the darkness of the bedroom. Palpable and easily maneuvered, Agron trails his lips up Nasir's neck, soaking in the sharp bite of cinnamon that always clings to the smaller man. 

“Shit,” Nasir gasps when Agron sucks on the skin directly behind his ear, fingers trailing around his stomach. 

He plays with Nasir's navel ring for a moment, lightly fingering over the metal and red crystals, before sliding one hand south. Nasir has never had much of a happy trail, and now the skin is a smooth, silky path to the scrunched top of his pants. Blindly, Agron undoes the ties to slip his hand under, groaning when his fingers touch silk and lace. 

“Wait,” Nasir's hands wrap around Agron's wrist, pulling back, “Not yet.”

“Why?” Agron will deny later that he whined, middle finger resting a mere inch above the head of Nasir's cock. 

“I want coffee and to relax for a little bit,” Nasir pouts, looking over his shoulder up at Agron. 

“I'll make you all the coffee you want after I strip you down and eat you out,” Agron tries to persuade. 

“You already did that. I haven't seen you in ten days,” Nasir's bottom lip trembles, “I missed you. Didn't you miss me for anything other than sex?”

Agron's resolve crumbles instantly, watching as Nasir blinks his huge whiskey eyes up at him. 

“Fuck, of course I did. I missed everything about you, every second of every day,” Agron punctuates the words with quick kisses on Nasir's forehead, “About drove me crazy. Come on. I'll make you a cup of coffee.”

Nasir uncurls his body, turning to wrap his arms securely around Agron's neck. Agron instantly notices the goosebumps along his skin, nipple hard in the cold apartment air. The radiator has been acting up, sometimes refusing to spit out anything but water. He had meant to get it fixed, but it had slipped his mind. Duro and him were not the type to get cold that easy, but with Nasir's habit of running around half naked, it wasn't going to work all winter. 

It takes every ounce of self control to pull away from Nasir. Agron nearly stumbles too, turning quickly to retreat from the room, only stopping when Nasir snatches his hand. 

“Why don't you put on something comfy and I'll make the coffee?” Nasir asks, tugging lightly on the hem of Agron's t-shirt. 

“Sure. Milk is in the fridge. Don't look in the bags.”

“You got me a surprise?” Nasir asks, backing towards the kitchen. 

“You could say that.”

Finally, after Nasir has brewed the coffee and Agron has stripped down to a pair of gray sweatpants, not bothering for anything underneath – they settle on the couch. Nasir pointedly ignores the sharp V Agron's pelvis makes, hips cut deep in his flesh and looking powerfully wide as Agron sprawls along one side of the couch, taking a cup from Nasir's offering hand. 

“No sugar, just milk,” Nasir rattles off even before Agron has a chance. 

“You're too good to me,” Agron replies, flashing Nasir his dimples. 

“Perhaps.”

Sitting down across from Agron, Nasir curls up with his own cup, stretching his feet delicately into Agron's lap. It's almost subconscious, the way Agron's fingers trail along Nasir's ankles, rubbing a thumb deep into the arch. It makes Nasir wiggle closer, seeking out more. 

“Tell me about your day,” Nasir groans, taking a deep swallow of his drink. 

“It was fine,” Agron distractedly curls his thumb along the dark lines of the tattoo on his ankle, “Fought fires. Saved lives. You?”

“Inked people. Helped someone get their nipples pierced today.” Nasir leans his leg to the side, spreading his knees around Agron's. 

“And how was that?” Agron inches his fingers up the elastic, petting Nasir's smooth calves.

“She cried, bled a little. Had a nice rack though.” Agron cringes, nose wrinkling, and Nasir answers with a peal of laughter.

“Do women really freak you out that much?” 

“They don't.” Agron shakes his head, face still scrunched in disgust. “I just don't get the appeal. All the extra parts, all hanging out in weird angles. And their-” Agron's face twists into a scowl, hand motioning over his crotch. “I don't get it.”

“No? You'd rather have a flat chest and a hard cock?” Nasir giggles, poking Agron's chest with his toes. 

Agron easily catches the foot, raising it to kiss the inside, nibbling at the skin.

“No. I'd rather have a smooth ass to bury myself in,” Agron answers, eyes narrowing at his boyfriend, “Lucky I have you.”

“Lucky indeed.” Nasir teases, hiding his smirk behind the rim of his mug. 

“You know, I don't know if I've ever told you, but you really do have the perfect ass.” Agron lounges back, self indulging smirk pulled across his face. 

“Is that so?” Nasir giggles, shaking his head. He knew Agron had a bit of an obsession with it, but figured it was on the same level as his obsession with Agron's back.

“It is. Perfectly smooth heart shape, fits in the palms of my hands. Those dimples that fit my thumbs like a handle.” Agron takes a long pull of his coffee, eyes staring at Nasir over the edge. “Made to have me inside it.”

Nasir flounders for a moment, blush rising on his chest and neck. He knows it's true, feels it every time Agron grips him and pulls him close, the easy way he fits into Agron's hands. Even thinking about it now, it surprises Nasir how much he loves being just the right size for Agron to manhandle. 

“I got a phone number today.” Nasir has never been that gracious in accepting compliments.

“Yeah? Some fat biker again? Asking you to ride?” Agron raises an eyebrow. He can feel the beginning twinges of jealousy begin to creep up the back of his neck, possessive nature taking hold. He tampers it down though, knowing with the way that Nasir is staring at him, there is no one else on his mind.

“Nope. Some guy who wants me to know if you want to have a threesome,” Nasir shrugs, swinging his legs off of Agron's lap to stand.

“What?” 

Agron sits up, firmly grabbing Nasir's shoulder to keep him from getting up. Just like that, the fury begins to build in his chest – thinking of someone else's hands on Nasir.

“He's also up for adding Duro into the mix,” Nasir adds, leaning forward to set his mug on the coffee table. “I accidentally told him that you both are huge.”

“Huge?” Agron's face morphs from rage to conceited and back. 

“I meant like tall wise,” Nasir waves his hand, “but he took it there too.”

“You think I'm big?” Agron already knows he is, but likes having Nasir confess it.

“Agron, you're ten inches full erect and big enough around that my fingers don't touch. I think that's evidence enough,” Nasir rolls his eyes, trying to ignore the heat on his cheeks, “as for Duro, given his height and his lineage, I imagine he's well above average.”

“He's not as thick,” Agron adds in his two cents, grinning when Nasir flounders a bit.

“I'll uh, I'll let the customer know when he comes back for touch ups.”

“Are you- Do you-” Agron shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing even further, “Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Telling you. Some guy left his number for us,” Nasir goes to get up only to be pulled back down by Agron.

“Do you want to have a threesome?” Agron's eyes go from narrowed to wide, familiar crazy gaze raking down Nasir's face.

“With that guy? No way. Hipster shit. He's too hairy for you anyways.” Nasir rolls his eyes. 

“But with someone else?” Agron asks, unconsciously glancing towards Duro's open bedroom door.

“With Duro?” Nasir's mouth gapes a little. Flashes of all that muscle pressing Nasir down onto the bed, surrounding him, suffocating heat as both German brothers took him invade Nasir's mind, bringing a blush to his cheeks. He can't help but wonder what it would be like to be spit roasted between them, completely giving himself over.

“You want to have a threesome with my brother?”

Agron's fingers slip from Nasir's skin, drawing back. 

“No! The guy in the shop was-” Nasir cuts himself off, shaking his head, “No. I wasn't saying that we should proposition Duro.”

“Because he has Auctus.” Agron butts in, nodding as if to confirm to himself that it's true. 

“Yeah.” Nasir glances to the side. 

“And he's my little brother.”

They both half cough at the same time, not making eye contact. Silence falls on the apartment. 

“Are you done?” Nasir asks after a while, pointing to Agron's mug. 

“Yeah, but I'll-” Agron doesn't even have time to finish his sentence before Nasir is crawling into his lap. 

Cradling Agron's face between his palms, Nasir initiates the kiss, mouth open against Agron's. He pushes his tongue forcefully between Agron's lips, dominating the kiss as long as Agron will let him. Sometimes, Nasir swears that this is enough. Just making out on the couch, having Agron's huge hands pushing his hair back, thumb trailing along his jaw, teeth nipping at his bottom lip. 

Keeping one hand fisted at the back of Nasir's head, Agron lets the other caress along his spine, trailing up and down in short strokes. He finally reaches the back of his pants, teasing just the very tips of his fingers along the waistband, touching the top lace of Nasir's underwear. Ever since Halloween, Nasir has been obsessed with wearing this tiny boxer briefs edged in soft lace. They're delicate, and Agron has already ripped two pairs from being too forceful in undressing the smaller man.

It's not rushed, but it's not gentle either. Nasir's cheeks redden under the beard burn, stroking Agron's hair only to pull the strands when he feels Agron's cock twitch against his thigh. He purposefully drops his weight down, grinding his ass just a little bit, just enough to tease Agron's girth against his. 

Goosebumps break out over his skin when Agron moves his mouth down across Nasir's jaw, biting at the skin and tugging. He eventually reaches Nasir's neck, sucking a large, brilliantly dark bruise right in the center of the left side. Nasir's eyes flutter shut under the attention, crying out when Agron bites hard enough he swears he draws blood, pulling him even closer.

“Ah!” Nasir gasps, leaning back only to have Agron trail kisses down his chest, latching onto a nipple and biting, “Agron!”

Agron glances up at Nasir, one hand still teasing his lower back as the other twists his unbitten nipple. His face is flushed, sweat beginning to dew on his chest, as Nasir stares down at Agron with half lidded eyes. He rolls the nub against his tongue, teeth pressed firmly against the areola. Nasir squirms from it, moaning when Agron blows air across them. 

Pulling back slowly with an obscene wet slurp, Agron leans back against the couch arm, hand absent mindedly moving down to massage as his hard cock through the sweatpants. Nasir looks wrecked, mouth bruised and nipples swollen pink. 

Licking his lips, Nasir plants one hand in the center of Agron's abs, inching his body back to sit along his calves. He doesn't wait for permission, just leans forward to curl his fingers in Agron's waistband, pulling the soft cotton down until the curls of hair at the base of Agron's cock are peeking out. 

“Are we alone tonight?” Nasir murmurs, kissing just above them, feeling the course hair tickle his throat. 

“Yeah,” Agron gasps, one hand pulling Nasir's hair back from his face, allowing him to see better, “Texted Duro a while ago. Told him not to come home.”

Nasir presses his grin to the side of Agron's cock the moment he gets it free, staring up at Agron in the next moment as he presses an open mouthed kiss along the flesh. It's hot, already an angry red and leaking from the tip. Greedily, Nasir laps at the seed, trailing his tongue in short circles along the crown. 

Agron holds Nasir's hair back from his face in a high ponytail, watching Nasir work. It's obscene but so fucking hot when Nasir stretches his lips around Agron's girth, taking him in half way before grazing his teeth back up. He's so good at it, mouth hot and tight and wet around him, and Agron wishes he could hold Nasir still and fuck his face until he choked on it. 

He has, and he will again, but if he wants Nasir to stay coherent for later, he's going to have to make Nasir go slow – save his energy for the main event. 

“You want to move this to the bedroom?” Agron asks, brushing his fingers along Nasir's cheek to feel where his cock is disappearing. 

Nasir makes a groan of protest, taking Agron deeper into the back of his throat. It causes Agron's next words to fail him, staring up at the cracked apartment ceiling. Nasir is too fucking good at what he does, too fucking perfect with his breath on Agron's base and his hand fondling his balls. 

Agron knows that if Nasir makes him come, it might slow everything down, which is good, but at the same time, he doesn't want that sleepy satisfactions to overtake him. Tonight is about Nasir's pleasure, and how much Agron can give to him, not taking away from Nasir. 

“Baby boy,” Agron's voice dips, suddenly commanding, “Wait.”

Nasir instantly feels the shift, pulling back with a slick, wet pop, licking his lips. He wants more, wants to suck Agron's cock until it fills him, coats the back of his throat. He won't do anything though that Agron won't allow, wanting nothing more than to be submissive to him. 

Pulling himself up, Agron takes note of the way Nasir's eyes track the flexing of his abs, reaching out to touch only to pull back, sitting pretty in Agron's lap. 

“Go the bedroom and wait on the bed,” Agron instructs, gently grasping Nasir's chin between two fingers, “Don't get started without me.”

“But-” Nasir pouts, already thinking about it, goosebumps breaking out over his skin at Agron's firm tone. 

“Nasir.” Agron's tone isn't harsh but unbending, gripping Nasir's arms to push him back on the couch and off of Agron's lap. 

“Yes Daddy,” Nasir blinks up at him, wiggling away to stand up. He glances back only once when he reaches the bedroom door, bottom lip caught between his teeth, before sprinting into the dark bedroom. 

Agron takes his time, collecting their mugs and putting them in the sink. He then stretches a little, scratching at the back of his neck and looking through the contents of the bag. Taking all the bottles of lube out of their boxes, Agron rubs them each between his hands to warm them, not wanting to shock Nasir too much. He collects it all, making sure to grab a bottle of water too, before turning with a giddy breath to join Nasir. 

He's done mostly what Agron has asked. Laying on his back, Nasir has lost the harem pants but kept the underwear, silk tented around his erection. He hasn't done anything that Agron can see, only flipped the bedside lamp on and spread himself out, one hand above his head and the other resting on his spread legs. 

“Good boy,” Agron smirks, setting the bag on the floor by the foot of the bed, pressing a knee between Nasir's feet. 

Under anyone else, Nasir would hate it. Hate the way Agron praises him like a little boy, like he's weak and needs his big strong man. But Agron, fuck. There is no way he can say no to him. Agron is his big strong man, his alpha male that knows just what Nasir needs and gives it to him willingly and without protest. Agron can strip it all away, break Nasir down only to rebuild him again when he's so raw he thinks he's going to break. 

It's not about who is more powerful, even though physically they both know it's Agron, but it's about what they need. Agron is a giver in bed, always has been. He gets his pleasure from giving pleasure to others, and there is no one Agron has ever been able to pleasure quite like Nasir. Nasir gives it back, begs for it, sucks Agron's cock, scratches his back, rides him and makes Agron come from just the tight little vise that is Nasir's ass. But he also flips over, needs Agron to smother him in his weight, his scent, invade him and conquer what Nasir has already given up freely to him. Nasir needs to float in subspace, trust Agron wholly and completely never to take it too far, never to hurt him past what Nasir can handle. And he does, fuck, Nasir trusts Agron with everything he has. 

Nasir opens his legs wider to make room for Agron when he crawls onto the bed, hovering on his hands and knees above Agron. He's momentarily frozen at the way Nasir looks at him, huge dark eyes that stare up and mouth slightly parted. He's gorgeous, the most beautiful thing Agron has ever seen or touched or tasted, all perfectly compacted into Nasir. From the hair that's curling at his temples to his mouth bruised neck, to the delicate way he trails his fingers up Agron's forearm. 

“I love you,” Agron murmurs, kissing Nasir's forehead, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Nasir breathes, anticipation breaking his skin out in goosebumps. He knows what Agron is really asking though, hopes that even without saying the three words that it comes across. 

Easing himself down, Agron trails wet kisses all along Nasir's torso, teeth snagging in the lace of his underwear when he gets there. He tugs on the material, looking up at Nasir for his reaction, getting a begging moan from his efforts. Agron doesn't remove them just yet. Instead, he trails the tip of his tongue up the silk covering Nasir's cock, tracing the erection in a wet line.

Nasir cries out, fingers twisting in the sheets. He wants more, so fucking much more, and Agron knows it. He sucks on the skin against the quickly dampening fabric, moving his mouth up and down. The tip of Nasir's cock strains up against the lace waistband, staining the black a white as precome pearls at the tip, slipping down. 

It's like torture, feeling Nasir's hot skin through the fabric but not really being able to taste it. Agron teases for just a few more minutes, thoroughly wetting the whole front of his briefs before slowly pulling them down and off of Nasir's legs with his teeth. He makes sure to graze his rough cheek along Nasir's cock as he does it, teasing the soft skin with the tingling burn.

He was right. Nasir's legs are always usually smooth, the fine hairs growing on them never being too coarse, but this is completely different. Nasir has shaved himself, all cleaned up and satin skin. Agron can't resist, dragging his tongue along Nasir's balls and back up his cock, reaching a hand between his legs. 

He doesn't pry really, just rests his fingers against Nasir's opening. It's soft from the shower, smooth skin around it stretched from their previous activities. It will be no problem for Agron to get a finger or two inside of him, start him out slow before adding more. 

Nasir arches his back, grinding his heels into the bed to arch his hips. It's a feat in itself that he's still graceful, desperate hands grabbing at the sheets. He flutters his eyes open, staring dark and feral down at Agron, silently asking for what Agron is more than willing to give.

Reaching for the first bottle of lube, Agron pops the top open and drizzles it across Nasir's hip bone, watching transfixed as it slides lower, barely kissing the base of Nasir's cock before landing on his balls. Agron adds more, easing it along and back to Nasir's perineum, pressing his knuckle up and firmly to the skin. 

Nasir writhes, pulling his knees up and shift his hips. It puts him completely on display, one ankle reaching up to hook over Agron's shoulder, spreading himself wide. Agron doesn't get distracted though, pouring lube over his palm to coat his fingers, his middle slipping back and easing into Nasir with no resistance. 

With a startled moan, Nasir arches down for it, beginning to rock his hips already. He wants more, greedily demands it when Agron trails his ring finger along Nasir's ass, reaching down for his hole. He wants to go slow, make Nasir wait between each finger until the need is too much and he screams for it, but the first two just slip into Nasir's body as if they were meant to be there. 

Laying down on his left side, Agron pulls one of Nasir's thighs up and over his hip, spreading him wide. The new angle lets him get his fingers deeper, half leaning over Nasir to lap at his chest, again biting at his nipple. Nasir's fingernails scratch at Agron's thigh, mouth gasping at each trust of the digits inside him. 

“You take it so good, baby boy.” Agron praises into Nasir's ear, biting the lobe. “Open up so pretty for me.”

“Need you,” Nasir hisses, turning his head to capture Agron's mouth in a kiss. It's more open mouthed panting than lips, but Agron still manages to get his tongue into Nasir's mouth. 

Agron eases his third finger in with another dollop of lube, spreading them wide within Nasir. He grazes across Nasir's prostate every few strokes, teasing pleasure. He knows Nasir is already close, nails nearly drawing blood where they grip at Agron's thigh. 

Flipping back over, Agron kneels between Nasir's legs and takes his cock back into his mouth. He doesn't even bother taking his time, just sucks Nasir down to the root, swallowing around the head. He knows how to get Nasir off fast and dirty, leave him shaking from orgasm and pleasure.

Nasir cries out from the sudden heat, cursing under his breath, and writhing down on the fingers within him. Instinctively, he tangles his fingers in Agron's hair, tugging on the strands, keeping him down. Agron doesn't protest, gaze tilted up to stare at Nasir, electric green eyes glowing in the dim light. Nasir goes from half-way there to fully, feeling like liquid heat poured down his back. He doesn't even get a chance to cry out a warning, bone numbing moan yanked from his chest as he comes. 

Bitter sweet liquid fills Agron's mouth, coating the roof and his throat. He drinks heavily, suckling on Nasir's cock, slowly pulling back inch by inch, making sure nothing is left behind. He knows that no one has ever sucked Nasir's cock like this, if ever before, and Agron plans on making up for lost time.

Nasir deflates with his orgasm, collapsing back on the bed with a satisfied grin. He's just about to comment on Agron's oral abilities but is stuck dumb as fingers twist inside his ass, a fourth joining the three already there. 

"Fu-uck!" Throwing his head to the side, Nasir groans into the fabric of the pillow. 

"Not done yet, baby boy," Agron smirks, popping the lube again. 

"Your hands," Nasir pants, heels dragging on the sheets.

Agron licks a drop of sweat off Nasir's stomach, keeping his fingers pumping and spreading. 

"It's too big. It won't fit," Nasir whines next, trying to cover his face with his hands. 

"Hey," Agron moves up, pulling Nasir's palms from his cheeks to kiss his mouth gently. "Do you want me to stop?"

Nasir ponders it for a minute, feeling how deep Agron's middle finger is inside him, thumb a teasing weight right behind his balls. He's been wanting this since he sputtered it out over the phone, can't seem to keep his mind from lingering on the idea of his ass stretched around Agron's wrist, fucked harder and deeper than he ever has. 

"No," Nasir confesses, leaning up to kiss Agron again to confirm it. 

"Trust me, baby boy," Agron kisses Nasir's forehead before drizzling more lube over his palm. 

Nasir's thighs are a wreck, completely coated in lube and spit, half mixed with Agron's precome. He's definitely going to need a shower after this. Agron doesn't seem to mind the mess though, laying a slow, wet kiss to Nasir's navel just as the tip of thumb breeches him. 

Agron can feel the way Nasir tenses, sucking in a sharp breath. Continuing his kisses along his hips, Agron presses and presses until he gets his hand up to his first knuckles inside of Nasir, stopping when he hears the first whine of pain. 

"Relax baby boy. Don't fight it or you'll hurt yourself," Agron soothes, leaning up to kiss Nasir's sweaty chest, "Let me in."

Nasir is past words, body thrumming with energy and pleasure. Taking a shuddering deep breath, Nasir lets it out and nods at Agron, gripping the sheets in trembling fists. He arches down, pushing out, willing his body to become loose and open for Agron.

Agron leans up and presses an opened mouth kiss against his lips, tongue sliding along his teeth, distracting him as Agron presses firmly against Nasir's hole. There is still some resistance there, Nasir's whine of pain shuddered against his mouth, and then just wet heat surrounding his knuckles, his palm, and finally Nasir's body hugging his wrist. 

"Daddy," Nasir sobs, tears making twin tracks down his cheeks. 

He's incoherent, so high from fucking pleasure and the sharp agony of having Agron's giant hand inside of him. Drifting in space, every sensation takes him higher, further from being able to control himself, control the cries and moans for more when Agron flexes his fingers. 

"It's alright. It's okay, baby boy. I've got you," Agron murmurs, staring transfixed at the angry red skin wrapped around his thick wrist. 

He takes it slowly, curling his fingers a bit tighter inside Nasir, pulling back to inch forward, waiting for the walls to adjust. Nasir is past the point of saying more or less, so Agron has to make the decision for him, feel it out and take care of him. It's a task that Agron is more than willing to take up, always conscious of every shuddered breath and tiny mewl he makes when he's under Agron. 

“Oh god. Oh fuck. More more more. Daddy, fuck!” Nasir rambles, tugging the sheets up. He spreads his legs even wider in a near split, stretching himself open wide. 

"So good, baby boy," Agron praises, beginning to grind his fist at a regular pace, watching Nasir's tear streaked face for any glimmers of pain. 

His cock throbs against Nasir's thigh, needing attention, but Agron can't be bothered - still transfixed by Nasir's hole. He inches his fist forward and back, noticing the shivers that rack Nasir's body every time his middle knuckle brushes over his prostate. Agron continues his movements, trailing kisses down Nasir's face and twisting his fist.

Trembling along his spine, Nasir turning the bright lights flashing behind his eyes to stars. He can feel his cock dribbling against his stomach, another orgasm trying to force more from his dry body. Nasir can't even separate when he's coming and when he's just floating in a haze, pleasure too high for him to pick it apart.

“Please… tell me,” Nasir murmurs, dazed eyes meeting Agron's. 

“You're mine,” Agron growls, kissing Nasir's mouth hungrily, “My perfect little boy, so good for me, baby, so fucking perfect. Ass stretched around my big fucking fist.”

“You turn me into such a little slut,” Nasir confesses, nails digging into Agron's shoulders, “Need your cock inside me the minute you get your body near mine.”

“Whenever you want it, I'll give it to you,” Agron promises, lapping his tongue along the sweat on Nasir's jaw, “Never need to ask.” 

Watching Nasir mumble pleas and swears is enough to force Agron to act. Pressing close, he nestles his cock right up against Nasir's meaty thigh, thrusting against the smooth skin in time with his fist nudging into Nasir's body. 

"Fuck, you're so perfect baby. So much more than anyone else," Agron pants, feeling his body reacting faster than he had intended.

Nasir half aware reaches out for Agron's cock, thick hand landing at the base and resting there. He doesn't have the strength to do much else. 

It's good enough. A melting inferno slides down Agron's nerves, sparking along his groin. He grips Nasir's hair in one hand, pressing a growl to his mouth as he cock twitches and spurts, seed coating Nasir's stomach and thighs, mixing down where his wrist twitches inside Nasir's body. 

He keeps thrusting inside of Nasir's hole, fingers flexing, rubbing against his prostate until Nasir nearly screams, shaking hard enough he draws blood on Agron's back from gripping him. Finally, when Agron is certain that there is not another drop inside of him, that Nasir can't possibly come again, then he relaxes his hand and pulls it out. 

Falling to the side, Agron drags his fingers through the mess he made on Nasir's stomach, massaging it into his skin - mark him and claim him as only Agron's. Nasir's mouth falls open, basically begging for it, so Agron lets him suck the seed off his fingers too. 

It's a while, Agron isn't even sure of how long, before he catches his breath and Nasir's eyes flutter open a little. He's not all there yet, weakly licking his lips. He's covered in bruises, dark hickies sucked into his neck and chest, a particularly dark one at the bottom of his ribs. 

"Hey baby boy," Agron sits up, pulling a bottle of water off the nightstand and opening it. 

He maneuvers Nasir to lay up on the pillows, propped up right, and gently presses the straw to his lips. Nasir drinks slowly, draining the whole bottle before reclining back. Agron strokes his face after, tossing the plastic away. 

"Baby? Nasir, can you hear me?" Agron asks, leaning close, "Come back to me."

Nasir weakly smiles up at him, eyes regaining some acknowledgment, fingers trailing along Agron's palm. He stays silent for a few minutes, just gazing adoringly up at Agron, puckering his lips slightly. Agron obliges instantly, leaning forward to press a triplet of quick, chaste kisses to his lips. 

“You were perfect, so good baby. I'm so proud of you,” Agron murmurs, pressing his forehead to Nasir's, “Thank you.”

Nasir doesn't respond, only curls closer to Agron. His body aches all the way to the core, still thrumming with too much pleasure and the agony of being so open. He knows Agron will take care of him though, clean him up and do everything that Nasir needs. 

They lay together for a while before Agron goes to get the rag, being careful to wipe down every inch of Nasir's reddened skin. Nasir is docile through it, allowing Agron to make sure that nothing tore or is bleeding. He did it right though, and though he's going to be sore as fuck for a few days, Nasir has no lasting damage. 

Some time later, after they've both eaten a package of Poptarts and shared a Gatorade, They lay curled around one another under the blankets. Agron runs his fingers through Nasir's hair as he rests his head on Agron's wide chest, caressing his scalp. Neither can fully sleep, but linger right outside of it, deep breathing and quiet sighs. 

“Hey Nasir?” Agron whispers in the dark, not stopping his ministrations. 

“Yeah?” Nasir's breath ghosts across Agron's nipple. 

“Do you want to come home with me for Thanksgiving?” Agron asks, instantly feeling the way Nasir tenses. 

“Are you sure?” Nasir peeks up at him through his bangs. 

“Do you have anywhere else you were going to go?” Agron knows full well that Nasir never kept contact with his foster family. 

“No, but that's awfully couple-y,” Nasir shrugs a little, “Are you sure you want me to meet everyone?”

“Of course. Let me show you off,” Agron smiles a little tight, but not for reasons Nasir knows, “Saxa promises to let us hide out with Tielo if things go South.”

“South?” Nasir pushes himself up on his elbow. 

“My father and I,” Agron hesitates, looking away to gain the right words, “don't see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

“Let me guess, stubborn German alpha male tendencies? Too much a like to get along?” Nasir teases, stopping when he sees Agron's pained expression. 

“Kind of, not really.” Agron struggles, and then finally deflates, trusting Nasir with the knowledge of his past, “My dad was abusive for as long as I can remember. It wasn't too bad for a while, just random slaps, a few belts. I took it all. Duro is four years younger than me, I had to protect him.”

Nasir sits up slowly, taking Agron's hand into his, kissing the knuckles and encouraging him to go on. 

“I was a scrawny shit until I was about sixteen. Dad shipped me and Duro off to our Uncle's – Saxa's dad's house – and at the time they lived out on this farm. I grew and grew, not as big as now but I grew a lot of muscle, got my height.”

“You were this tall at sixteen?” Nasir interrupts, eyes wide. 

“Yeah,” Agron smirks a little, only imagining how Nasir looked like in high school. Probably ridiculously pretty, as he is now. “We came back and my dad had gotten worse. He is ex-military, expected the best of us at all times, and when he retired he wanted soldiers for sons. 

Duro has always been slower, just a little weaker, not as good. I love him for it, but my dad took notice of our difference. Duro was twelve, barely into puberty, and here I was this huge guy that didn't take a punch quite as easy.

He started in on Duro when I wasn't around, away at football practice or some other shit. I didn't realize what was going on for a while, Duro always hid it. Wearing hoodies and long sleeves, pretending he was clumsy.”

Agron looks up at Nasir, and Nasir realizes where he's heard all this before – how long had he hide Caesar's abuse behind cotton and zippers?

“It was the summer I turned nineteen - I remember because I had just come in from working on the hot rod out front all day and my back was so fucking sunburnt. I was standing in the kitchen washing the oil off my hands when Duro snuck in. He had a tendency to run wild then, cruising around with the older guys at the school. I always made sure he was safe, no one wanted to mess with me at that age. 

Dad was asleep on the couch and must have heard him, thinking he was some bullshit robber or something – he gets 'Nam flashbacks sometimes. He came around the corner with his hunting knife, drunk off his mind. I saw it like it was slow motion. I still remember the crunch of the backdoor's glass window when I shoved Duro into it, the hot plastic and leather of the hilt of the knife, Dad's fucking whiskey breath on my face when he plunged the blade into my chest.”

Agron pauses, taking Nasir's hand and pressing it to the large scar on his chest. Nasir barely breathes, staring at Agron in the dark. 

“I think Duro's screaming is what woke Mom. I don't even remember the hospital ride, just Duro's face floating above me in white lights. If he had moved it six centimeters the left, I would have died instantly.”

Sighing, Agron rubs his face. 

“We moved out as soon as I was discharged. They live in Maine and I took Duro and fled, moved to Brooklyn. I told Mom that either I took him now and brought him back for holidays or they'd never see us again.”

Nasir doesn't know what to say, caressing over the thick scar tissue, leaning down to press his lips to the skin. Agron curls his fingers in Nasir's hair to keep him there. 

“I thought you ought to know the situation before we just show up. It's always miserable, but I'd like you to meet my mom, see the old house, play with my cousins.”

“Of course I'll go,” Nasir promises. 

There was a long pause, the silence like a calm as they both take it all in.

“Thank you.”

Agron brushes Nasir's hair back from his forehead to kiss the skin. He's never shared that story with anyone outside of the immediate family and Spartacus.

 

\- - - 

 

Nasir is still sore when it comes Monday, crawling out of Agron's bed to go to work. He's first in today, opening the shop. Usually he loves it, being able to drink his coffee in peace and quiet, sketch in the early morning light before either Pietros or Chadara come stumbling in with donuts or muffins. 

Leaning over Agron's sleeping form, Nasir presses a firm kiss to his soft mouth, promising to text him later before scampering out the door. Agron's grumbled “I love you. Have a good day.” following him. He orders an extra large coffee at the cafe around the corner from the shop, getting a free croissant for being such a loyal customer. The November air is brisk, but not too cold, sunlight reflecting off the buildings on Fulton Street, and by the time Nasir gets to the shop, he's sure it's going to be a wonderful day. 

He's just finished a sketch for his new tattoo idea - a scrawling Arabic script of Agron's name that will fit perfectly over his hip, when the bell over the door rings. Nasir looks up, expecting to greet a customer with his usually smile, only to have it fall flat. 

Standing there in a steel gray suit flecked with silver lining, Caesar stares at Nasir through dark sunglasses. He's holding a large yellow folder, bulging with papers. A small smile tilts the corners of his lips up, but doesn't extend. 

"Hey, sweetheart," Caesar greets, coming up to the counter. 

"Get the fuck out," Nasir hisses, surprised by the ferocity in his voice, even though his hands begin to tremble when Caesar is close. He is completely alone in the shop, with no escape. Fear burns through him, raising goosebumps on his arms and twisting his gut. 

"Don't be like that," Caesar sighs, setting the folder on the polished black marble, "I came to talk, nothing else."

"Talk? Talk about what?" Nasir bites, pushing his chair back to stand up, "I have nothing to say to you." 

Slowly, Caesar lifts his hands to his sunglasses and pulls them down. An angry dark bruise has swollen Caesar's whole left eye shut, a few streaks of a broken blood vessel arching from his eyebrow. Nasir has never seen anything that bad before, and sucks in a startled breath at the sight. 

"I have a cracked eye socket and three broken ribs," Caesar begins, "and evidence to prove that Agron attacked me unprovoked."

"What?" Nasir asks disbelieving, shaking fingers pressing to his lips. 

"I came over to talk to you, just to apologize. We were together for so long, after all, and I love you deeply. I expected you to answer the door but Agron was there instead. He attacked me in a jealous rage. I barely escaped with my life." Caesar explains, mouth curling. 

Nasir realizes it's a lie. Agron has been with him for the past three days, constantly surrounded in the bed or sometimes the shower. Caesar is lying, weaving a tale that makes no sense. But why?

"No way. I've been with him," Nasir shakes his head, "I've been with him all weekend. I can be his alibi."

"And are the courts going to believe you? A recovering addict and prostitute?" Caesar asks, raising his right eyebrow. 

"I'm not-" Nasir pauses, wondering what's the game. If Caesar is going to claim all this, there has to be a hidden agenda.

“Oh I have proof that you are.” Caesar points to the folder. 

Nasir opens it long enough to catch sight of photos from the security camera of Ludus, showing Nasir with customers in the back. 

“These are from two years ago.”

“Still recovering.” Caesar shrugs, acting so fucking self sure. 

Nasir's mouth dries, wanting to skip the whole charade. "What is it? What do you want?"

Caesar grins, pulling his bruise up, "Come on now, sweetheart. I want what I've always wanted."

Nasir grips the counter hard enough his knuckles turn white. Willing the words not to come out of Caesar's mouth. 

"You've always been mine, Nasir. I just allowed you to have your little temper tantrum, and now it's time you come back home."

Nasir stares at him disbelieving. All this time, all the stalking, all the half concealed threats - it was all just build up for this moment? A poorly weaved story to make Nasir feel bad for him?

"No." Nasir shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest, "I'm not yours anymore. I'm with Agron. I'm happy with Agron."

"What are you going to do Nasir when he finds out it's your fault that his life gets ruined?" Caesar leans forward on the counter, "If I press these charges, I will bring it all down. Your happy little domestic shit of a life will be over."

"You can't prove he did anything," Nasir hisses, praying that's the truth. 

"Can't I? Don't you remember how good I am at my job? When I press these charges, I'm going to take everything from him. Considering his violent record and his tendency to get in trouble for assault, it'll be an easy case. A violent barbaric fighter attacking me - the good, upstanding lawyer - over my rescued and rehabilitated fiance. The one I love so fucking much I tried to reconcile with him, only to be nearly killed."

“I'm not your fucking fiance.” Nasir hisses. 

“Did you forget about that?” Caesar asks, raising an eyebrow, “I proposed to you a year and a half ago. You still have the ring. I am pretty sure it's somewhere in your apartment right now, you just forgot.”

Caesar walks around the counter as he talks, continue weaving his story. 

"It was basically attempted murder, you know. Agron being so big, so prone to flipping the switch. He'll lose his job over it, that's for sure, and if the courts take my side - which they will - he could be put away for twenty years."

Caesar reaches out to twist a strand of Nasir's hair around his finger, caressing his cheek. 

"How is he going to love you behind bars? Will he stay faithful to you? Who will protect you out here in the big, scary world? What happens when Agron finds out that you caused all of this?" Caesar hisses, stepping close enough that he towers over Nasir. “His whole family will turn from you, hate you, for taking away their precious Agron – the twink whore that ruined everything.” 

Nasir's whole body shivers, eyes filling with tears. He wishes he had the strength to push Caesar away, to run from the problem, to hide away once again from the manipulation and abuse. There is nothing he can do though, would give up anything and everything to protect Agron. 

"Caesar," Nasir chokes out, eyes leaking, "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you're mine," Caesar suddenly yells, hand slamming down on the wall next to Nasir's head, "You're mine and that fucking asshole took you from me. Put his giant, dirty hands all over you. I can see the marks all over your neck.” Nasir instantly places his hand over the hickey at his jugular. “He doesn't deserve to even have the scraps off my table."

"Caesar, please don't do this," Nasir begs, weaving his fingers around Caesar's lapels, "Please. I'll do anything."

“Anything?” Caesar grins, and Nasir plays right into his hands. 

“Anything.” Nasir confirms.

“I'll drop the charges, forget the whole thing happened, erase it, if,” Caesar pauses, gripping Nasir's cheek in his palm, “if you leave him.”

“What?” Nasir's eyes blink rapidly, trying to wrap his head around it, staring up at Caesar. 

“Leave him. Dump him. Break his heart,” Caesar explains, grinning wider, “Make it cruel and I'll make all the rest of this disappear.”

“Caesar,” Nasir's voice breaks, a sob threatening to come out, “You can't do this. Please, you don't understand. Why can't you just let me be happy?”

“Because,” Caesar hisses, resting his forehead against Nasir's, “Because when this is all said and done, every scenario leads to you having no one. A stupid, worthless little bitch like you should only have what he deserves – and that is nothing. But you'll come back to me. I know you will. You always do. Always.”

Nasir turns his face away, letting Caesar's words sink in, let them coat him in shame and disgust. Of course Caesar is right. No one knows him quiet as well as Caesar, can see all the lies and foolish stories Nasir tries to tell himself in the morning. He's been a whore since the moment his foster father raped him at thirteen and the title has stuck. He doesn't deserve Agron, he deserves Caesar – the pain and misery – the inescapable anguish. 

“I love him,” Nasir whispers, feeling his dry lips crack on the words, “I'm in love with him.”

“Then you'll make the right choice,” Caesar shrugs, “Choose the path that hurts him less – losing you or losing everything else.”

It kills Nasir, feels like his whole chest has been ripped open, when he makes his choice. Caesar doesn't even wait for the whole phrase to be out before pressing a kiss to Nasir's mouth, keeping him pinned to the wall so he can't escape. It's nothing, absolutely nothing like the way Agron kisses Nasir, too rough, too much teeth, no care or feeling. 

“I'll give you until Wednesday,” Caesar pulls back, fingers finding Nasir's necklace. He fingers the charms, looking at each before wrapping his fist around the leather. It takes one firm tug for the clasp to break, coming undone in Caesar's hand, “Guess you won't need this anymore.”

Caesar shoves out the door just as Auctus is coming in, pausing in the doorway with a huge box of danishes. He takes one look at Nasir, leaning against the wall, staring straight ahead with mouth gaping, and drops the box to rush to his side. There are no words coming from Nasir's throat, just a high, wailing moan as he begins to sob, sliding down the wall. Auctus' hands flutter around him, pulling the smaller man into his arms, holding him close.

“Nasir! Nasir, what has happened? Was that Caesar?” Auctus asks, but there is no hope in getting Nasir to speak, too over taken with gut wrenching sobs to even breathe really. 

“Do you want me to call Agron?” The name finally prompts a response from Nasir, causing him to shake his head, begging in half aborted chokes not to.

Auctus continues to hold Nasir until he finally stops crying, eyes closed tightly in the dim shop. He knows that Pietros and Chadara are going to be in soon, but he isn't sure of what do yet. Finally, with a shuddering breath, Nasir pulls back to stand, wiping at his face. 

“Nasir,” Auctus tries softly, still perched on his knees on the floor. 

“Sorry, just got a little bad news. I'm alright now,” Nasir flashes him a weak smile, eyes dead. 

“What did-” Auctus starts, but stops when Nasir raises a hand. 

“Don't worry about it. Are you here to work because I'm sure your station could use a good cleaning,” Nasir turns back towards the desk, collapsing in the chair, whatever earlier emotion suppressed back behind his mask. 

 

\- - - 

 

Agron slams the door behind him, sighing deeply at the dark apartment. Duro must be at Auctus or at work. He can't remember. They're either always here or never here, it's not possible for them to be apart it seems. Every day this week that Agron has been at work, he's returned to darkness. 

Stepping further inside, Agron is about to flop on the couch when he hears soft music coming from down the hall. He chastises himself instantly for missing it – the half empty bottle of wine on the counter. Grabbing up the bottle, Agron takes a long swig straight from the top, ignoring the glass that's set up beside it. It's not a cheap bottle either, at least thirty dollars with tiny flecks of gold on the label. It can only mean one thing. Agron only knows one person that is that much of a wine snob. 

Quietly paddling through his bedroom, Agron leans against the door frame of the bathroom, warmth filling his chest. Nasir is curled up asleep in the bathtub, hair spilling over the back and candles along the edge. Bubbles scatter along the top of the water, clinging to Nasir's collarbones and chest. A mostly empty glass of wine rests on the floor, Nasir's fingertips just kissing the rim. 

Agron steps inside, dodging the clothes on the floor, squatting down and gently gripping the back of Nasir's neck, fingers dipping into the scalding water. He pulls Nasir up a little, tilting his head back to trail soft kisses up his neck to his jaw, nuzzling there until he moves his lips up to Nasir's. 

He kisses him awake, feeling every second that pulls Nasir out of dreaming and into consciousness, wet hands lifting to frame Agron's face. He strokes Nasir's cheeks, brushing his hair back from his forehead. Agron can feel the tension of the day leaking out of his shoulders, eased back into okay ground the moment Nasir's eyes flutter open. 

“I was dreaming of you.” Nasir rubs his lips together, slowly smiling. 

“Were you?” Agron murmurs back, kissing him again. 

“I was,” Nasir nods, warm and pliant in Agron's hands, “We were in the ocean and you were whispering secrets into my ear.”

“Secrets?” Agron asks, pulling back enough to trace Nasir's bottom lip with his thumb. 

“Lots of secrets. But I already know what they are.” It occurs to Agron that Nasir isn't really awake yet, movements too slow, too subdued in his confessions. 

“Guess they weren't very good secrets then.” Agron smiles fondly. 

“You kept telling me we were meant for each other.” Nasir murmurs, blinking slowly.

“We are,” Agron confirms, bumping his nose against Nasir's. His whole body is warm and soft under Agron's hands, so smooth it's as if he's never had a single scar on him.

“You'll always come for me, right?” Nasir asks, eyes opening wider, searching Agron's.

“Of course.” Nodding, Agron gently cups Nasir's jaw. He doesn't understand the sudden shift in mood.

“No matter what? You won't give up on me?” Nasir looks a little frightened, and Agron can't imagine why. Leaning forward, he kisses Nasir's mouth tenderly, drawing his tongue along his lips in a slow glide.

“No matter what,” he promises, nuzzling against Nasir's cheek. Perhaps the dream wasn't as good as Nasir let on. 

“Country song?” Nasir whispers, wet fingertips cooling against Agron's temples. 

“Just like a country song,” Agron confirms. 

He gently lowers Nasir back into the water, petting his hair with careful strokes. Nasir seems to relax again, staring up at Agron with more conscious eyes, gaze dark in the dim lighting. Agron is just about to turn away, wanting to get out of work clothes, when Nasir latches on, tugging on his fingers. 

“Join me?”

“Alright.” 

Agron pulls back to stand, dragging his t-shirt over his head. He takes his time, tossing his clothes on the floor and watching Nasir as he slides forward in the tub. Water shimmers down his back, bubbles clinging to his hair and chest. 

Gingerly, Agron lowers himself into the water, reclining back against the warm ceramic where Nasir's head had just rested. Nasir moves through the water as if some sort of water nymph, curling up on his knees between Agron's thighs, fingers caressing path up his stomach to his chest. Pressing wet lips against the skin, Nasir follows it with a sponge, washing Agron's collarbones in small circles. 

Before Nasir, Agron would have never thought he'd end up in a tub with someone bathing him, but with Nasir it's different. It's not about servitude, but the soothing caress of Nasir's skin against his own, tempting and enticing while staying innocent. 

“You're getting paler,” Nasir murmurs, pausing to compare his own brown colored forearm to Agron's – trying to memorize it. Claim this moment for his own.

“It happens in winter,” Agron replies with a raised eyebrow, leaning his head back against the wall, “I suppose you will always be this pretty tan color?”

“Mmhm.” Nasir drags his lips along Agron's jaw, nuzzling against him. 

“You're so beautiful, baby,” Agron whispers into Nasir's ear, “So gorgeous.”

Nasir hides from the words, wrapping his arms tightly around Agron's neck. It's so fucking hard sometimes to hear Agron's sincere praises. Ever compliment reminds Nasir of everything Caesar used to scream into his ear, canceling out each other until the words just battle inside of Nasir's skull. 

The conversation from earlier, the threat, it hangs heavy between Nasir's shoulder blades. It smothers him in pain. He knows what he's going to have to do, to save Agron, to keep Agron safe in payment for all the months that Agron has sheltered Nasir, taken his pain away, given him something to look forward to in life. 

“Let it out,” Agron tangles his fingers into Nasir's hair, sensing the anxiety building in Nasir's chest. 

Separated from the world like this, encircled in Agron's huge arms, the weight pressing against his back like a shield, Nasir can barely breathe. It's not just fear anymore. There has been something building between them for so fucking long, and though it seems to seize in Nasir's chest every time he thinks about it – he knows. 

He loves this man. 

He loves Agron, so much that he's sure if Agron ever leaves, it will destroy Nasir. It's hopeless to try and tamper this feeling down, and Nasir doesn't want to. He never wants to lose this moment, the security of Agron's body against his, lips against his skin, breath ghosting down Nasir's spine. A fleeting comfort for the months ahead when Agron won't be there. 

“I missed you,” Nasir chokes out instead of the words, but somehow, he feels like Agron gets it. 

Cupping his face, Agron raises Nasir's face up to kiss. He works his lips against Nasir's forehead, his cheeks, his nose, and finally his lips. It's a slow caress of skin against skin, Agron opening his mouth gently against Nasir's, letting him answer in a quiet sigh. Their tongues meet in the middle, sharp taste of wine and the lingering hint of smoke against Nasir's. Pressing even closer, Nasir tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss, shivers zipping along his back. 

“ _Schatz_ ,” Agron gasps as he pulls back slightly, hands trailing down Nasir's hair pressed to his back. 

Nasir feels sparks of pleasure begin at the sound of Agron's native tongue, forming around the petname. He's only heard it a few times, when Agron is too far gone, growling in German against Nasir's temple. He's never said it like this, tender and sweet and so fucking choked with emotion.

It's killing him to have Agron's hands on him, outlining his spine and shoulders. Every slide of Agron's body against his own feels like a burn, a reminder of what's to come. How can Nasir go through with this if he knows that tomorrow it will be all over? That he has to do this quick or he may never do it at all. 

He's selfish. Nasir fucking knows. But if he's going to break Agron's heart, his own fucking shattering the moment he tells Agron to go, then he needs this. Nasir needs to have one more night, one more chance to feel this love – so palpable between them.

“Tell me what to do, baby,” Agron whispers, “Tell me what you need to make it better.”

“You,” Nasir kisses Agron again, “I just need you.”

Agron's large hands move through the water to grip Nasir's ass, pulling him up and over Agron's legs. It's easy this way to get to all of Nasir's body, cocks nestling between them. Nasir isn't even half hard yet but he still arches against Agron as if he is. 

“I love you.” Agron can't seem to keep his hands still, caressing over and over Nasir's shoulders, his back, his chest, his neck. 

“Agron,” Nasir whines, raking his nails lightly down Agron's chest, leaning forward to take a nipple between his teeth. Agron hisses at the contact, arching a little out of the water. It rubs their cocks together in delicious friction. 

Nasir fumbles next to them, managing to grab the bottle of bath oil before pressing it firmly to Agron's chest. His hands are shaking too much for him to open the bottle correctly, so he busies himself with spreading his legs as wide as he can in the tub, knowing it won't take much for Agron to ease the way. 

Agron coats his fingers with the peppermint slick, hoping it won't wash off as he glides his hand between Nasir's trembling thighs, searching out his hole. Nasir is still loose from the fisting, able to take both of Agron's fingers followed quickly by his cock. 

Hiding his tears in Agron's neck, Nasir lifts and drops his body quickly on Agron's cock, trying to keep himself from sobbing. This can't be the last time, the last moment that Agron will ever kiss his neck like this, hold him close, whisper praises into his ear. Nasir wants to push him away, wants to pull him closer, wants to die from the ache that twists inside his chest. 

Agron can feel the tense muscles of Nasir's shoulders squeezing together with every moment, skin so slick under his hands. This isn't normal sex. Nasir isn't gasping into his ear, begging for more, desperate fingers in Agron's hair. It's slower, more prolonged, pulling pure emotion straight from Nasir's mouth to Agron's. 

They kiss slow, and Agron swears he feels real tears against his cheeks, so moved by the proximity of Nasir's heart to his own. Even if he can't say the words, even if he never says it, Agron knows that Nasir loves him. They transcend words, rise above human comprehension of love. This is more than anything Agron ever expected, so moved he can feel his own tears tingle at the back of his eyes. 

When Nasir comes, it pulls a broken sob from his throat, shuddering as he tries and fails to keep the tears back. They spill hot down his cheeks and onto Agron's chest, burning their skin and seeming to choke Nasir out. His body tightens so sharply it brings Agron to his own end, hiding his face within Nasir's long hair, tears mingling together in the bath water. 

“I love you. I love you so much,” Agron whispers into Nasir's ear, kissing him over and over. 

Nasir can only mouth the words, hiding them against Agron's wide chest. He knows if he says them now, he'll never be able to take them back, and every time he tries to break Agron away, it will be there like a brand – a reminder of when they were happy. 

 

\- - - 

 

Three days later, Wednesday, and Agron is speeding down the BQE to pick Nasir up. He agreed to grab him with Duro and Auctus (much to Agron's chagrin) to head up to Maine, planning on spending the long weekend with Agron's whole family. Gannicus and Saxa following close behind in the SUV filled with their bags and a very sleepy Tielo. 

The sun is just peeking out above the skyline, golden embers shining over the Chrysler Building and across the East River. Agron feels lighter, happier than he's ever felt. He never expected to find someone as perfect and lovely as Nasir – the whole package rolled up in a hipster little tattoo artist from Downtown Brooklyn – but he has. Nasir is everything, the sun doesn't rise if Nasir tells him not to. 

Pulling up in front of his apartment building, Agron slips in after an older couple and heads up the three flights to Nasir's door. The carpet in the hallway is stained in some odd places, overhead light flickering, and even though it's not the most ideal (considering the crazy crime record there is in the area) Agron considers this place to be half his home. 

Knocking on the door, Agron lets himself in, figuring he might as well considering that Nasir should be ready to go. What he's not expecting is to find his boyfriend sitting on the couch in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, fingers covered in charcoal. He jumps up the moment he sees Agron, barefeet looking tiny on the hardwood floor.

“Hey baby,” Agron greets, going in to kiss Nasir's bruised mouth only to have his lips hit Nasir's cheek instead. It's a dismissal, a sharp tang of unease inching into Agron's stomach. 

“Hey,” Nasir murmurs, moving away from Agron to the kitchen. 

“Where's your bag? You ready?” Agron asks, following him. Nasir turns at the sink, leaning back against it and staring at the cracked linoleum. 

“I'm not going.” Nasir mutters, not moving. 

“What do you mean you're not going? Auctus and Duro are in the truck waiting on us. We've gotta get an early start or we're going to get stuck in traffic.” Agron shakes his head, reaching for Nasir's arm only to have the other man draw away again. 

“I can't go to Maine,” Nasir replies in the same tone, so cold and detached. 

“Are you sick? What's going on?” Agron can feel fear prickling at the base of his neck, cold tension in his shoulders. 

“I can't go to Maine. I can't go to Thanksgiving with your parents. I can't do anything with you,” Nasir says it but Agron can't seem to comprehend. 

“What?”

Taking a deep breath, Nasir raises watering eyes to Agron's. 

“I can't do this anymore. I can't be pressured all the time to make you happy, to give you what you want from me. It's too much,” Nasir rambles, not pausing to take a breath, “It was too fast after Caesar. You wanted too much and I gave it to you because that's what I do – I always give in.”

Agron sucks in a shaky breath, pain shooting through his chest at the honesty of Nasir's words. 

“You could die at any minute on the job. You could just leave me and you're so fucking reckless. So prone to just give it all away.”

“Nasir,” Agron tries to butt in, to reassure him, but Nasir cuts him off again. 

“And with the violence and the fighting. You want me all to yourself. You get mad every time Castus texts me, or when I try and have a life on my own. It's exactly how Caesar started out and then it turned. Are you going to do what he did?” 

“No! I only want to protect-” Agron is cut off again. 

“I can't do it. I won't do it anymore.”

Agron moves forward to take Nasir's shoulders into his hands, holding him still as Agron crouches down to look into Nasir's eyes. Trying to see if all of this is a lie. He can't see anything but blank emotion and tears though, void of everything Agron has grown to love and adore. 

“Why are you saying all this now? We could work this out. You just had to tell me, baby. I don't want you to be afraid of me, to think I'm going to hurt you. Nasir.”

“It's not going to work. There is too much to fix,” Nasir hisses. 

“Baby boy-”

“I don't love you.”

Nasir's words are so short, so cruel, it sticks directly in the center of Agron's chest, turning over and over and over. Hot tears, both anger and pain, spring in the corners of Agron's eyes, flooding the green with salt. He can barely hear the way Nasir's voice breaks, fingers grip at Agron's arms, nails digging in before shoving him away, turning to face the counter. 

“You don't mean that,” Agron chokes out, hands lingering between them, “Nasir, you don't mean it. I saw it, when we were in the tub, in your face.”

“I do.” Nasir replies, voice a croak, “How could I love you? I don't even know what love is. It was all just an act. I needed someone to save me, and you did. Now it's over, and I need to move on. You got yourself in too deep and this is what happens.”

“It's not what happens,” Agron shakes his head. 

“It is with me.”

“Nasir!” Agron slams his hand into the cabinet above Nasir's head, body pressing tightly to the smaller man's. It's all over as Nasir jumps, turning to stare up at Agron with scared eyes. He whimpers, bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“Nasir, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-” Agron tries, pulling back, but it falls on deaf ears. 

“We're over.” Nasir shakes his head, turning away to scamper out from under Agron.

“Please don't do this,” Agron goes to follow, stopping short when Nasir shakes his head. 

“Go away, Agron.” Nasir rests his hands on either side of him on the counter, dropping his head to stare at the sink, stomach twisting so fucking hard at the next words, “Leave me alone.”

Agron is numb, completely void when he stumbles from the apartment, blindly passing people on the stairs. The sun seems too bright, to vicious on his eyes when he gets to the truck, just standing outside of the passenger side door.

“Hey, where's Nasir?” Duro sticks his head out between the two seats from the back, “Is he okay?”

Agron doesn't reply, continues to stand there, tears leaking out from the corners of his eyes. 

“Agron?” Duro asks, stomach dropping. Agron never cries. Duro is pretty sure he's never seen Agron so much as shed a tear in pain or anger. 

“What's happened? Is Nasir okay?” Auctus asks, moving forward with his boyfriend. 

“He's not coming,” Agron murmurs, finally moving around the truck to pull himself into the driver's seat. 

“What do you mean he's not coming? Is he okay? Is he sick?” Duro pries, reaching out to grab Agron's shoulder. 

“He's not coming.” Agron repeats, turning the truck on and pulling out onto the street. 

“Why?” Duro asks again, only to earn a sharp glare from Agron. 

“Just shut the fuck up, okay? He's not fucking coming. Why don't you do what you always fucking do, put your mouth to better use, and suck your boyfriend off or something?”

“Hey!” Duro bites out, only to be silenced with a firm hand on his from Auctus. He shakes his head slowly and Duro leans back, mouth twisted in a scowl.

Auctus turns just as the get to the corner, watching as Nasir stands at his window, uncontrollable sobs wracking his body as he presses his hand to the glass.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [ tumblr](http://venomedveins.tumblr.com) for more nagron and fire starter sneak peeks


End file.
